The Oddities of Fate
by LostWithoutYou101
Summary: Two years after her parents' divorce, 18yearold Hayley discovers her father is remarrying a woman 15 years his junior. Angry but determined, she journeys to Tree Hill for the wedding, where she meets the boy of her dreams. Here's the story though her eyes
1. Chapter 1

I heard thunder rumbling in the distance, signaling the beginning of another storm. The sky was painted a vibrant purple, flecked with charcoal-colored rain clouds. Through my open window the scent of crisp summer rain wafted into my room, filling my lungs and offering me a temporary sense of comfort. Lightning flashed threateningly across the sky, softly illuminating my darkened room. Another summer night I sat alone, staring out into the night sky, the ever-familiar feeling of dread settling itself within my chest.

I pulled my knees close to my chest and wrapped my arms loosely around my legs, finding the position rather comfortable. I rested my chin on my knees as I continued to stare out of my window, observing the midsummer storm that was currently raging outside. The bright flashes of lightning contrasting against the dark sky oddly soothed me, settling my weary mind.

I had never found out why, but I'd always loved thunderstorms. The first storm I ever remember witnessing was during the summer when I was around five or six. I was sitting in the exact same place I was now, staring out of the same window, observing a nearly identical storm with the same curious interest. I remember being happy then; staring out of my window, amazed by the scene that played out before my eyes.

Another crack of thunder resonated throughout the humid night, pulling me abruptly from my thoughts. I sighed softly as rain began to fall, watching languidly as tiny droplets splashed onto the windowsill.

I closed my eyes briefly, choosing to shut myself off from the world that surrounded me. There were so many things happening at once, but I paid them no mind. I had chosen to remain obstinately oblivious to everything going on around me, preferring naively to awareness. Things worked better that way. I had learned that long ago.

"Hayley!" my mother called from downstairs, bringing me back to reality. I unwrapped my arms from my legs and stretched out on my bed, stifling a yawn. Reluctantly, I stood from my bed and left my room, making my way slowly towards the staircase.

Standing on the bottom step was my mother, her normally meticulous hair askew, and her brown eyes lacking the warmth that had been missing for over two years. Sometimes I expected to see them sparkling like they used to, before everything had changed. But every day I was met with the same pair of cold, hollow brown eyes. Eyes that pierced my soul but never truly looked inside, eyes that burned deep within my mind each night as I begged for sleep. It never came, all because of those eyes.

"Hayley," she said, her voice slightly deeper than normal. I noticed that her nose was red and her eyes were bloodshot, indicating to me that she had recently been crying.

"Yeah?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I just wanted to make sure that you had everything packed," she said, attempting to smile. "Your flight leaves early tomorrow morning, and we can't waste time packing last minute things."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed under my breath. "Yes, mother, everything is packed and ready to go."

"I know how you like to procrastinate, Hayley," she said firmly, narrowing those unfamiliar eyes at me.

"Well, I didn't this time, all right?" I snapped. "Everything's done. I finished this morning."

"All right, then," she said with a heavy sigh. "Be up by five. We have to leave here by six at the latest. You know how traffic is around Metro."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, absentmindedly tucking a strand of my golden brown hair behind my ear.

"The restaurant's shorthanded tonight, so I have to go in for a few hours," she informed me as she bustled toward the front door. Again, I nodded. She managed to smile weakly at me before grabbing her purse and walking out of the door. Once I heard the sound of her car pulling out of the driveway, I descended the staircase and stepped into the kitchen.

Just as I reached into the freezer to grab a frozen pizza, the sound of the phone ringing sounded throughout the house. "Damn it," I muttered as the pizza box fell to the ground. Irritated, I picked up the phone and greeted the caller with an annoyed, "What?"

"I can tell you're in a lovely mood," the voice of my best friend, Brooke, floated into my ears through the receiver.

"Shut up," I muttered. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to know if I could come over for a bit. You know, hang out before you leave me for the entire summer." Though her voice sounded cheerful, I could hear the resentment she tried to hide.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "Bring something to eat, too. Stop at 7-Eleven or something. There's no food in this house."

"And your mom is a chef," she said incredulously. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay," I said, and hung up. I sank into my favorite armchair in the living room and closed my eyes, waiting for Brooke to show up, armed with sweets and a pint of my favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry's.

"You're making it out to be worse than it really is," Brooke said later that night as she sipped from her Slurpee--Cherry Coke and blue raspberry mixed. I wrinkled my nose up in disgust as she offered me a drink.

"You know I hate that stuff, Brooke," I said, rolling my eyes. "And what do you mean, I'm making it out to be worse than it really is? Do you consider spending the summer before your first year of college in Tree Hill _favorable?_"

"Think of it this way. You'll get to see your father, who you haven't seen for over two years. And," she said, cocking her eyebrow suggestively, "maybe you'll meet a guy there."

I groaned. "First of all, I could care less about seeing my father. He's an asshole, and you _know_ that. The only reason I'm even going is because my mother thinks it'll be good for me to get away for a while. Secondly, I'm not going there to meet a guy." She shook her head at me, rolling her eyes. "Don't give me that look. I've told you before, the last thing I want is some guy hanging all over me, trying to take up all of my time and whining when he doesn't get what he wants. If I wanted that, I'd get a dog."

"And you'd probably chuck the dog before you got emotionally attached to it," she said as she flipped her Dark brown hair--hair I had been envious of my entire life--over her shoulder. "Face it, Hayley. You're like, commitment impaired."

"I'm not commitment impaired, Brooke, as you so eloquently put it. I'm realistic. I mean, what are the chances of actually finding a true, everlasting love? I honestly don't think it exists."

"Oh, it does," she said, a dreamy expression overtaking her features. "You'll find it one day, Hayley. Someday when you least expect it."

I snorted. "Right. Hand me that bag of Cheetos, will you?"

"Oh, ye of little faith!" she cried dramatically. "I shall make a believer out of you if it is the last thing I ever do!"

"Uh-huh. The Cheetos, please."

As I slipped into my pajamas later that night, I stood in front of my mirror, closely examining my face. I blocked out all of the mementos that framed my mirror; honor roll certificates, hastily scribbled poems, pictures of Brooke and I. I concentrated on my eyes, suddenly realizing just how closely they resembled my mother's. They were the same striking brown color, and they held many of the same emotions I constantly saw floating around in hers. Anger, restlessness, a sadness that never completely faded away...all of them were there, staring back at my reflection.

Shaking my head, I walked past the mirror and plopped down onto my bed. I buried myself underneath my blankets, ignoring the heat that lingered within my room. All I wanted now was to sleep and forget about everything that had been on my mind. I didn't want to think about leaving. I didn't want to think about my father or his wedding that I was being forced to attend. I didn't want to think about college starting in the fall, which meant me moving out of my mother's house and into a dormitory located halfway across the country. I wanted to escape the thoughts that had been plaguing me, the thoughts I so desperately tried to evade.

Moonlight crept in through my open window, bathing my room in an eerie glow. Shadows from slowly moving cars driving down my street danced across my walls, followed by the glare of headlights that occasionally spilled in through the window. I turned away from the window and instead focused on the one picture of my father that I kept open in plain view. It rested comfortably on my bedside table, reminding me constantly of happier times.

Soundlessly, I lifted the photograph from the table and held it delicately in my hands. I stared at it for what seemed like hours, carefully memorizing every detail and storing them in the back of my mind so I could remember it always.

The photo had been taken eleven years previously at my family's summerhouse in mid-Michigan, the one that had been sold after my father left. I sat comfortably on his shoulders, clad in my sparkling orange bathing suit, my nose tinged a light red from the sun. A bright, toothy smile was present on my face, and my eyes were filled with excitement and laughter. A large, happy grin was spread across his lips, and his steel blue eyes were twinkling with joy. My hands were tugging playfully at the ends of his brown hair, and I had known even then that he hadn't minded it. The glistening water of the lake could be seen just beyond us, and as I stared at that photograph, I remembered just how cold that water had felt on my bare skin. I shivered, placing the picture back onto the table.

I hadn't seen my father in over two years. I hadn't seen him since that night he had left. I blinked back tears as the memory of that day came rushing back to me, dragging up a thousand painful emotions along with it.

When my parents sat me down at the kitchen table on that cold, dark January morning, I had a feeling that I knew what they were going to say. I had been preparing myself for this moment for months. After all of the arguing, the lies, the deceptions, I knew that the end of their marriage was near.

At first I had been scared. I didn't know what life would be like without both of my parents there to take care of me. I wondered what it would be like to live with only one of them, and visiting the other on weekends and holidays.

After my fear subsided, I started feeling angry. Angry because they couldn't make it work. Angry because it was _my_ fault in the first place. Somehow I knew that it was because of me that they were constantly fighting.

But as I sat at the kitchen table on that January morning, none of those initial feelings lingered within me. In fact, I felt relieved. Relieved that the fighting would finally end, and maybe then everyone would be happy.

"Hayley, your mother and I are getting a divorce," my father had told me in a sympathetic tone.

Beside him, my mother was twisting a tissue in her hands. Her eyes were red and swollen. I couldn't ever remember seeing her look so terrible. For once, her long brown hair that I had inherited wasn't perfectly groomed and styled. It was uncombed and messy, and I remember it was the first time I realized how closely I resembled her.

"Your father and I love you very much, Hayley," she had said to me, her voice sounding deeper than normal because of all the crying she had been doing. "But we can't just seem to get along anymore. Things will be better this way, they really will be...you'll see..."

But by then, I had already tuned her out. I had heard all of the necessary details. All I wanted then was to just go upstairs to my room and listen to music, and maybe play a few songs on my guitar. Apparently, though, my parents weren't finished tearing apart my world. There was one more _minor_ detail they had yet to inform me of.

"I'm moving back to Tree Hill." I can remember the way he sounded, the way he looked, perfectly. He was sitting across from me, dressed in his shirt and tie, his mug of coffee in one hand, my own in the other. His voice had been sad and sympathetic, completely devoid of all other emotions.

And I sat there, staring blankly at his face, feeling the pressure of his hand squeezing mine. It was then that I knew that my life would never be the same. If only I had known just _how_ different it would become.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hayley P.O.V**

My best friend, Brooke, possesses what I like to call a persistent personality. Once she has something set in her mind, there's no talking to her. It's virtually impossible to win an argument against her. Even I, the world's most animated debater, can't compete with her. Trust me, I've tried, and failed miserably every time.

For the most part, I can deal with it pretty well. After being best friends with her for fifteen years, I've learned how to ignore her annoying personality traits. But, on the morning of my flight, blocking out her incessant nagging proved to be a much more difficult task than normal. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation. Or maybe, it was the fact that I didn't want to get on that plane in the first place. Whatever the reason, my defenses were weakened, and I was subjected to her rambling at the ungodly hour of five AM.

"I'm telling you, Hayley. You're going to meet a guy there." Brooke smirked at me, and I wanted nothing more than to smack it right off of her face.

"Shut up about that, will you? It's getting old," I snapped. I leaned over the sink and splashed lukewarm water onto my face, ridding it of the Neutrogena face wash that I used religiously.

"I can see it now," she said, completely ignoring my request. She pushed herself up onto the countertop and pressed her back against the mirror. "You'll come home in two months, disgustingly in love with the boy of your dreams. But don't worry. I won't say I told you so."

"Yes, Brooke," I said irritably. "That's exactly what's going to happen. Except you forgot to include how we're going to get married, have two point five children, and live happily ever after." I scoffed. "What a load of shit."

"Oh, come on," she said, rolling her eyes in frustration and sighing, Brooke-style. "You don't believe in true love? Not even a little bit?"

"No. I do, however, believe in giving up when you're fighting a losing battle," I said evenly. "So drop it, all right?"

"Fine," she said, heaving another overdramatic sigh. "For the record, though, I am so going to gloat about how right I was when you come home."

I looked at her, an incredulous expression on my face. That persistent personality was shining through, all right. I picked up my damp towel and chucked it at her, a satisfied smirk spreading across my lips as she emitted a shriek of disgust.

* * *

I don't cry. I see crying as a sign of weakness. My mother, however, seems to derive a twisted form of pleasure from blubbering at every available opportunity. She's been crying for two years over her divorce from my father. And when I told her that I was going away for college, she cried for, oh, five days straight. Approximately.

She's been telling me for two years that it's _all right to cry_. Like I'm afraid to or something. Like I'm holding back tears in the first place. _Please._ I don't cry because it's completely pointless. What does it solve? How does it help with your problems? How does it make you feel better? Naturally, my mother doesn't understand this. She had practically _begged_ me to shed a few tears as we said our good-byes in the airport earlier that morning.

"Oh, Hayley," she had said, overcome with emotion, "I'm going to miss you so much."

I, in turn, had hugged her loosely and replied in a completely steady voice, "I'll miss you too, Mom."

"Oh honey, it's all right," she had assured me. "Release your emotions."

I had smiled and hugged her a final time before departing for my gate. She had given me that disappointed look, the one I was so accustomed to receiving from her. And, as I normally did, I ignored it. I had left her standing there, just before security, tears rolling proudly down her face.

That had been hours ago. Now, as I sat on my nonstop flight to Tree Hill, I was busy pushing all thoughts of my mother out of my mind. Thinking of her tearstained face and her disappointed words would only annoy me further.

I glanced out of the window--yes, my father had gotten me a window seat, in first class, no less--and watched as tiny dotted cities turned into vast expanse of country. Though flying unnerved me slightly, it amazed me all the same. I could see things I normally wouldn't have been able to had I been driving there. It was breathtaking, watching the world pass me by.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a cool female voice said through the intercom. "As today's in flight entertainment, we are proud to be showing the Grand Final of Basketball, starring The Tree Hill Ravens."

"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned, prompting the teenage girl sitting beside me to roll her eyes. I ignored her and continued complaining, just to spite her. "It just had to be Basketball. The _one_ sport I can't stand."

"Do you mind?" the girl snapped from next to me.

"Actually, I do," I said as I glared at her. "I, for one, do not wish to be subjected to such mindless idiocy."

"Well, it's not exactly up to you to decide what entertainment is featured, is it?" the girl retorted, tossing her clearly professionally straightened hair over her shoulder.

"No, I suppose it's not," I said, sighing. "But I _can_ complain, which is what I fully intend to do."

If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot at the glare the girl sent my way. She eyed me with such dislike that I could almost feel the anger radiating from her. I rolled my eyes and turned away from her, instead focusing on the screen a few feet above my head.

The first twenty minutes of the game passed by uneventfully. I became so bored that I found myself dozing off. As I lingered in the grey area between sleep and consciousness, Suddenly some time later a loud shriek from the girl next to me yanked me away from my half-sleep.

"OMG… WE WON" she shrieked again.

I turned my head up and stared, bored, at the screen. There stood a dark haired boy, wearing the Tree Hill Raven's jersey, holding the cup, smirking at the camera. I then turned my head over to the girl sitting beside me, a horrible feeling settling itself within my stomach. I would be hearing about this for awhile.

I scowled, but amazingly remained silent. It was simply unheard of for me to ever hold my tongue, but in this case, I honestly had nothing to say. I was completed bored to the point where I was rendered speechless.

The girl--who I learned, was named Rachel remained silent after her little outburst for the remainder of the flight. Amazingly. She seemed satisfied knowing that her team had won.

Finally at sometime that afternoon, my flight arrived at the Airport. As I maneuvered my way down the narrow aisle, (keeping a safe distance from Rachel) I realized that with the small time difference, it felt like I had been flying for nearly an entire day straight. Damn jetlag.

After squeezing my way through the horde of passengers reuniting happily with their loved ones, I finally made it to baggage claim. I stood at the conveyor belt, watching it go around three times before accepting that my bag wasn't on it. I closed my eyes and began practicing my deep breathing in an attempt to keep my temper under control.

"Hayley!" I heard his voice clearly above the din of passengers mulling about, talking amongst themselves. It was strong, sharp, and loud. Just how I remembered.

"Hayley!" he called to me as I turned to face him. My father looked leaner and a tad ridiculous with his dyed blonde hair. A pair of designer sunglasses rested atop his head, and I had to resist the urge to cringe at his appearance. He looked positively stupid.

In one hand was my suitcase, (which I was sure had been lost) and his free arm was wrapped around the waist of a tall, thin, brunette woman. One look at her told me that she was everything my mother was not.

I walked toward them slowly, already sickened by their bright, excited smiles. I had a strong desire to slap my father hard across the face for bringing his girlfriend with him. With the mood I was in, I probably wouldn't be making a spectacular first impression with his Skinny Brunette.

I noticed that Skinny Brunette seemed a bit nervous as I approached them. Perhaps I was being overly critical, but I already disliked this woman. In my mind, she was the reason why my mother's eyes, once so vibrant and full of life, were now cold and hollow. To me, she was the reasoning behind my mother's sleepless nights, spent crying hopelessly into her pillow. The logical side of me knew that I was being petty and ridiculous, but the angry, resentful side of me believed that I was making perfect sense.

"Hayley, darling, you look beautiful!" my father greeted me, setting my suitcase down and removing his arm from Skinny Brunette's waist just long enough to hug me.

Despite myself, I hugged him back, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. That smell had always comforted me. In the years since he'd been gone, I had found one of his old shirts that still hung thick with the scent of his cologne. Although I'd never admit it, I'd hold the shirt close to me whenever I missed him, his scent wafting through my nostrils, offering me temporary comfort.

After a few moments, he pulled away from me and slinked his arm around Skinny Brunette's waist again. She was smiling at me, flashing her perfectly straight, sparkling white teeth. I made no effort to return it.

"Hayley, this is Olivia, my fiancée," my father said with a tentative smile. It was obvious that he was nervous, scared of my reaction to her.

I merely stood there, staring at her, making no attempt to introduce myself. My father stared at me stupidly, clearly surprised by my behavior. Olivia, however, decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Hello, Hayley," she said, that annoyingly perfect smile still plastered onto her face. "Your father has told me so much about you."

"Has he?" I replied, my voice laced with resentment. "That's lovely to know, even though he has no clue what's been going on with my life lately." I glared at him, then turned back to a stunned Olivia. "Unfortunately, I can't say that my father's told me much about you. That, however, can be partially blamed on the fact that he hasn't talked to me much in the past two years."

My father's jaw had dropped slightly at my words. I ignored him, though, and observed Olivia a bit more closely. She was dressed in a short denim skirt that showed just enough leg, a baby blue tank top that was low cut enough to accentuate her chest, and a small denim jacket draped casually over her shoulders. She adorned a pair of heeled sandals on her feet, which were the same color as her tank top. Her face, which was now contorted in an expression of absolute shock, was covered in heavy makeup, and her curly brown hair hung loosely around her face.

My initial impression of her had been right. She really was nothing like my mother.

"Hayley," my father said in a soft tone, though I could hear the surprise that was laced within his voice. "You know very well that it was never my intention..."

"Just forget it," I interrupted, holding up my hand as emphasis. "Let's just go."

My father, still familiar with my temper and stubborn mind, nodded slowly. Olivia shot him an incredulous look, which clearly conveyed her disapproval at my lack of respect, and the way my father had handled the situation. I glared at her just as my father began leading us out of the overcrowded airport.

"Right, then," he said, clearing his throat loudly. "Let's go home."

Home. Like this place would _ever_ be my home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hayley's P.O.V**

The drive to my father's house was silent and completely uneventful--for the most part, anyway. I think Olivia expected me to apologize for my behavior at the airport, but I was prepared to do nothing of the sort. That bimbo would _never_ get an apology out of me.

I rested my head against the smooth leather seat, watching cars pass us on the road. For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, I thought of how it would have been if my mother were in the front seat next to my father instead of the bimbo.

When my father lived in New York, he had driven a huge, monstrous Hummer. He had also had brown hair. Now, the three of us were in his newly purchased, silver convertible, his freshly dyed blonde hair blowing slightly in the wind that entered the car through his open window. I figured that he must have been going through his midlife crisis. Or maybe he was just trying to act the age of his young fiancée, who was barely ten years older than me. Either way, he looked like a complete idiot, and I would have told him so had I been in the mood to talk to him.

"Hayley," my father said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. "You enjoy Sport, don't you?"

"Yeah," I replied, my eyes narrowing at him.

"Well," he began, his voice full of hope, "I was wondering if you would like to go to this after-party that's being held here in Tree Hill?" He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his blue eyes piercing my own.

"What after party, who's it for?" I asked casually, though small butterflies were swarming around inside of my stomach excitedly.

_"The Tree Hill Ravens big win,"_ he said, a bright smile spreading across his lips. "Best game of the session."

The excitement that had dominated my emotions mere seconds before vanished completely. _Basketball? Just great_.

"I hate Basketball," I said tonelessly, watching as my father's hopeful expression slipped rapidly off of his face.

"Oh, well...err..._oh_," he said lamely, looking disappointed. "Your cousin Peyton is going with Olivia and I, and I thought it would be nice if you joined us..."

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes slightly. I was far too tired to argue.

"Lovely!" he said, his smile reappearing on his face. "Your cousin Peyton is friends with Rachel Gatina, one of the cheer leaders for the Tree Hill Ravens. Perhaps they'll show you around Tree Hill! They're right around your age, Hayley..."

I inwardly groaned. I already disliked my cousin Peyton, someone I'd never even met. If she was friends with someone as snobbish as Rachel, she probably acted the same way.

"As a matter of fact, we're going to visit your Aunt Karen tomorrow afternoon. You remember her, don't you?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No," I said. I had no recollection of an Aunt Karen.

"She's my sister, Hayley. She came to visit us in New York. She brought Peyton and her husband, Keith, with her..."

"I don't remember," I said, now beginning to feel confused. I had absolutely no idea what he was going on about.

"Of course you wouldn't," he said with a small laugh. "I'd forgotten that you and Peyton were only babies when she came to visit."

Obviously. Sometimes I wondered if my father even possessed a brain.

Just as I returned my attention to cars driving past us on the road, Olivia turned around in her seat and faced me. Her grey eyes, lined in thick black kohl, stared determinedly into my own. She didn't bother hiding the disapproval that lingered within her eyes as she looked at me. Not one to be easily intimidated, I stared right back, defiance burning within the brown depths of my eyes.

"Hayley," she said sweetly, smiling a truly insincere smile. "I know that the wedding is only a week away, and this is _rather_ last minute, but I would be simply _delighted_ if you would be one of my bridesmaids."

A bridesmaid? She wanted _me_ to be a bridesmaid at her wedding to my father? She actually expected me to stand beside her at the altar and be supportive of her marriage to my father? It took every ounce of self-control I could muster not to laugh out loud at such a ludicrous idea.

"I don't think so," I replied coolly, noticing how her eyes narrowed at my words.

"Oh, Hayley," my father chimed, shooting me a pleading look through the rearview mirror. "It's last minute, but please accept. We can get you fitted for a gown tomorrow evening!"

"Dad," I said as calmly as I could, "I don't think--"

"Please, Hayley," he interrupted, his voice sounding tired and worn. I was slightly taken aback by this. In my eighteen years of life, I never once remembered my father _pleading_ with me. This unusual behavior on his part unnerved me slightly, and without thinking, I found myself nodding my assent.

"All right," I said quietly, earning a grateful smile from my father. Which I ignored.

"Lovely!" Olivia chirped from the front seat. She turned around and flashed me a sickeningly sweet smile. I ignored that, too.

Finally, after several agonizing minutes had passed, the car stopped in front of a large, house. I looked at the building apprehensively, dreading the moment I would have to walk inside of it. Sighing, I climbed out of the car and went to the trunk to collect my suitcase.

"Don't be silly, Hayley," my father said to me, taking the suitcase out of my hand. "Come now. I want you to see the House."

He ushered me into the building, Olivia following closely at our heels. The entrance hall was ornately decorated with marble floors and small, crystal chandeliers, which provided the vast room with its dim lighting. It was beautiful, but a bit too upscale for my taste.

"What do you think?" my father asked excitedly, looking at me expectantly.

"It's...er...nice," I lied, offering him a small smile. This seemed to be enough for him, however; he smiled happily and led me to my room, where I fell asleep mere moments after my head had hit the pillow.

* * *

**Authors notes**

There are a few changers to the way the show is shown as they're just for this story –

Peyton is not broody but cheery and preppy and Karen and Keith are her parents


	4. Chapter 4

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Have you _seen_ that horrible dress she expects me to wear at that wedding of hers?" I asked Peyton incredulously as she lay across my bed, flipping through a magazine. She glanced up at me and shook her head, an expression of mild curiosity flitting across her features.

"You've got to see it," I said in slight disgust, racing over to my closet and searching for the hideous salmon-pink bridesmaid dress Olivia had chosen for me to wear. My father's wedding was now less than four days away, and the house was in total chaos. Receipts, lists, RSVP's, charts and Post-It notes littered every square inch of my father's spacious house, making it look like a complete disaster area.

Olivia was in a state of panic, constantly misplacing things and breaking down into hysterics at random intervals. She was a mess, to say the least. Just yesterday she had nearly suffered a nervous breakdown after she thought that she had _lost_ her wedding dress. My father and I had spent three long, tiring hours searching for it, only to have her realize that she had kept it at her mother's house for safekeeping. I was honestly ready to strangle the woman after that, but I had restrained myself, only because I knew that for whatever reason, this wedding was truly important to my father.

I pulled the dress out of the closet and held it up for my cousin to see. Her eyes widened in horror as they caught sight of the tacky, pink blob that was an excuse for a bridesmaid's gown. At first she appeared too shocked to utter a word, but within seconds she was laughing uncontrollably.

"That is the _ugliest_ bloody dress I have ever seen!" Peyton exclaimed. "And the worst part of it is that _you_ have to wear it!"

I cringed, already dreading the day I would have to slink into the horrific dress I held in my hands. "Shut up," I said to her, burying it back inside of my closet.

"Oh, come off it," Peyton said, her laughter slightly subsiding. It appeared like she was gaining more control over herself. "You know that it's dead funny."

"I should ask her to make you a bridesmaid, and then _you'd_ have to wear one too. We'll see how funny it is then," I retorted, trying hard to stifle my laughter as her face contorted into an expression of horror.

"Very funny," she mumbled, tossing her magazine aside. "So, away from the topic of offensively pink bridesmaid's gowns, are you going to help me get ready for this party tonight?"

I rolled my eyes. "No. I'm no good with hair or makeup or anything..._girly_...like that."

"Then how come yours always looks so good?" she challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

"All right, I lied. I just don't want to help you," I retorted, smirking.

"You're a bit too cheeky for my liking," she said in mock seriousness, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Deal with it, dear cousin," I replied, grabbing a throw pillow and hurling it at her head. She dodged it narrowly, sending me a rather menacing glare through her now slit-like eyes.

"So you'll help me then?" Her glare instantly vanished and was replaced by big, puppy dog eyes.

"I suppose," I relented, sighing dramatically. I sharply reminded myself of Brooke. Shaking my head, I grabbed my makeup bag and led Peyton into my bathroom, helping her get ready for what promised to be an exciting night.

* * *

"This is so _exciting_, " Peyton whispered later that evening as we drove to the after party in one of my father's many limousines. He and Olivia were sitting to the end opposite Peyton and I, casually drinking champagne and talking in hushed whispers. I honestly felt like I was going to be sick.

"Yeah," I muttered in reply, turning my head to watch cars drive down the busy street through the tinted glass window. In the distance, I could see two huge spotlights, there white light spilling onto a large banner that showed 'WOW done Tree Hill Ravens'.

"We're nearly there," my father said cheerfully, his smile wide.

"Mmm," I mumbled, only vaguely aware of what my father was saying. The limo had just turned onto a another busy street, and I could see several other limousines lined up outside of a large building outlined in bright, neon lights. On the front of the building was the same banner I had seen moments before, only now it appeared much larger.

"Now, Hayley," my father began in a slightly serious tone, "Once you step out of the car, it's going to be a bit overpowering because the Tree Hill Ravens had won the grand-final in basketball the after party is being shown to the rest of America. Photographers will be flashing cameras in your face from all around you, and reporters will be dying to get a word with you. Even fans that have no idea who you are will bombard you with requests for autographs just because you're there. Just smile and keep walking and you'll be fine."

Nodding, I inhale sharply as the door to the limousine opened. As soon as my father emerged, the bright flashes of clicking cameras were the only things that could be seen. Olivia stepped out moments after him, smiling that annoyingly perfect smile and waving enthusiastically at the swarm of photographers, reporters, and crazed fans. Peyton flashed me a nervous, yet excited, smile as she exited the limo, a look of surprise washing over her features as a dozen cameras flashed in her face.

I placed my hands against my burning cheeks in an attempt to calm myself down. I was acting completely unlike myself. I was never one to be nervous or anxious, but now all I could feel were butterflies darting quickly around my stomach.

With a deep, calming breath, I stepped out of the limo and joined Peyton on the red carpet. Just as he had predicted, microphones were being shoved into my face, and hurried, jumbled words of reporters faintly penetrated my ears. All I could see were the blinding flares of light as cameras continued flashing in all directions. I did as my father had instructed and walked though the crowd of people signing autographs and smiling at cameras.

A few minutes later as Peyton and I pushed our way into the crowded Building. A voice suddenly called from behind us.

"Peyton!" the surprised, unpleasantly familiar voice called.

I stopped dead in my tracks as Rachel Gatina approached us and proceeded to greet my cousin with an excited hug. "What are you doing here?"

I turned around just as Peyton started to answer and as Rachel went to drag Peyton away. Her eyes hardened and her smile faltered after noticing my presence. For several moments, neither of us said a word; finally, after what felt like hours, she spoke.

"What in the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?" she spat, surprise and anger evident in her voice.

Peyton immediately answered, preventing me from replying. "Rachel, this is my cousin, Hayley."

"Your cousin?" she asked in disbelief, her eyes rapidly darting between Peyton and I.

"Yes," Peyton said firmly. "And I'd appreciate it if the two of you would be civil with each other from now on. Whatever happened on the plane is in the past, and I'd prefer it if you both would put it behind you."

"Fine," Rachel said, rolling her eyes a bit. "Come on, then. I want you to meet the stars of the team." She shot me a glare before adding, rather reluctantly, "You can come too, Hayley."

Shrugging, I followed Peyton and Rachel toward the center of a room, where two teenage boys were standing with a couple of girls. I rolled my eyes at seeing them not really into basketball.

After the girls left to find more of their friends, Rachel walked over to them and greeted them with a cheery smile, motioning towards Peyton and I. I glanced at my cousin, who was smiling.

Rachel walked back over to us, the two boys following closely behind her. When they'd reached us, Rachel began with the introductions.

"Nathan, Lucas, this is one of my _best_ friends, Peyton Sawyer," she said, allowing the three of them to mutter their own greetings and hand shakes. I stepped out from behind Peyton and cleared my throat just loud enough to catch everyone's attention, and I noticed Rachel roll her eyes again.

"Oh...and this is Hayley...er..." she stammered, and I smiled, glad to see her so uncomfortable.

"I'm Hayley James," I said, extending my hand. "Peyton's cousin. And you are?"

Both of the boys exchanged incredulous looks. Apparently they couldn't believe that I didn't know their names.

"I'm Lucas Scott," the Blond head said, shaking my hand.

I nodded and dropped his hand, my eyes flickering over to the other boy, who quickly extended his hand out to me. I took it and shook it quickly, smiling slightly.

"I'm Nathan," he said, a small smile slowly creeping onto his face. "Nathan Scott."

"Hi," I said brightly, surprising myself. Was I actually being _friendly?_

"We should probably go," Rachel said, glaring at me. "The party will be starting shortly."

"Right," said Peyton, grabbing my arm. "We have to find her dad, anyway. I'll see you later, Rach. Nice meeting you, Lucas, Nathan."

"See ya around!" I called over my shoulder as Peyton dragged me back into the crowd of people.

"Wow," she breathed as we pushed our way through the overcrowded room. "How fit were _they_?"

"What?" I said in confusion, not understanding what she meant.

"Gorgeous," she said as my father and Olivia, dressed in her loudest bright yellow dress, loomed into view. "Weren't those two absolutely _gorgeous_?"

"They were all right," I replied casually. "I've seen cuter."

"Yeah, but they're basketball stars," she said with a laugh. "So you have to give them extra points for that."

"Uh huh," I mumbled as we neared my father.

"Which one caught your fancy?" she said, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"Neither." Though the one with the dark brown hair _had_ looked rather cute...

She snorted. "Liar."

"Am not," I protested. "I'm not exactly looking for a guy at the moment."

"Why not? Already involved?" she questioned.

I shook my head. "Nope. Just don't want a boyfriend tying me down is all."

"Right," she said slightly disbelievingly, like she _knew_ that there was more to it than that. She reminded me strikingly of Brooke, and in that moment I felt open and exposed, like an open book. I hated that feeling. I wasn't a person that could be read easily, but somehow Brooke had always managed to know exactly what I was thinking and feeling. The fact that Peyton could as well scared me. That was _not_ a good thing.

"Come on," I said to her as we reached my father. "It's time to go party."


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors notes**

This chapter is probably written different and I bit hard to follow so I apologize. This story is not moving quickly--I meant to write this way because I don't wont it to be to long of a part in this story. I also wrote it in reverse order, which I'm sure you'll notice as you begin reading.

* * *

**Hayley's P.O.V**

There are five things extremely wrong with my life:

1. **I woke up this morning with my head stuck to the toilet seat.**

2. **I was still wearing that god-awful salmon pink bridesmaid's gown.**

3. **My lips are rather red and swollen, and Peyton tells me that I had quite a good time with one of the waiters last night.**

4. **I'm left alone in my father's house for a week while he and Skinny Brunette are on their honeymoon.**

5. **I may or may not have thrown up all over a certain basketball star that has most definitely _not_ caught my fancy. Really. He hasn't.**

I'd be content staying buried beneath my blankets for the rest of my life. And no, it's not just because of the unbelievable embarrassment (although that _is_ a rather large factor.) I've got the worst headache known to humankind, and any time light reaches my eyes, I feel like dying on the spot.

Of course, my horrible wench of a cousin decided to drop in at the disgustingly early hour of eleven AM and drag me out of bed (which I had just crawled into, may I add. I think a night spent with my face plastered to a toilet entitles me to a few hours' sleep in my immensely comfortable bed.)

"Rise and shine, puke pants!" Peyton said cheerfully as she pulled my blankets away from me.

I managed to raise my hand high enough to give her the finger, but she merely tutted. "Now, now, that's no way to treat your dear cousin," she said in an extremely chastising tone. "If it hadn't been for me, I do believe you would have woken up in the bed of that waiter you were rather cozy with last night. Although I don't understand why. He was a bit smelly, if you ask me."

"Shut up," I grunted, squeezing my eyes closed tighter as light poured in through my now open window.

"Really, Hayley," she began as she sat down beside me on the bed, "how're you feeling?"

I opened my eyes slowly, squinting through the sunlight. She sat there, dressed in faded jeans and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, looking entirely awake and exceptionally healthy. How I envied her.

"Like I've just been run over by a Mack truck," I said, answering her question.

"I figured as much," she replied knowingly. "Here, take these." She thrust two aspirin into my hand and pointed to a glass of water sitting on my bedside table.

I swallowed the pills gratefully, praying that they would alleviate the massive headache I currently had to endure. I looked at Peyton, my vision still slightly hazy, and took a deep, calming breath.

"I didn't...you know...with that waiter...?" My voice trailed off; I couldn't bring myself to ask her if I'd slept with him or not. A rather uncomfortable feeling of disgust was slowly rising within me, and I knew that if she confirmed my suspicions, my head would be back inside of the toilet.

She shook her head, and my heart skipped a beat. "No, you didn't," she said calmly. "But you would have if I hadn't found you and taken you home. Actually, Nathan brought you home, but..."

"Nathan?" I said, cocking my head to the side. "Why did he take me home?"

"If you haven't noticed, I don't have a car. Your dad and Olivia had already gone, so Nathan offered to take you home."

I groaned loudly as blurred images from the previous evening flashed across my mind. The wedding, the reception, continually drinking large quantities of alcohol to make myself feel better...talking with Nathan, the star of the Tree Hill Ravens..._puking_ on Nathan...

"I threw up on him, didn't I?" I buried my face in my hands and let out another low groan, a rare wave of embarrassment washing over me.

"Only a bit," Peyton replied, offering me a sympathetic smile. "He was a good sport about it, though. There's no denying that he was a tad disgusted, but he managed to laugh it off."

"I guess the bright side is that I won't ever have to see him again." I sighed, my heart sinking for a fleeting second before I dismissed all thoughts of him.

Peyton looked at me incredulously. "What're you talking about? We're going out with the lot of them later tonight."

I stared at her, horrorstruck. "What d'you mean, _we?_ I'm not going anywhere with them..."

"It's no one's fault but your own that you made a prat of yourself last night," she said evenly. "But everyone understands, Hayley. You act like they've never been bombed before."

"Yeah, but they didn't vomit their dinner onto someone else..."

Laura looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I remember Rachel telling me that after a particularly long night at the pub..."

"Yes, but they're _friends_," I interrupted. "I barely know him, and I used him as a wastebasket. Imagine what they must think of New York girls now...they probably think we're all lushes or something..."

"Oh, shut up," Laura snapped. "You're going to go out tonight, and we'll all have a good laugh about your inability to hold liquor. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, get out of bed, and take a shower. And maybe put on a bit of blush; you look a bit peaky." And with that, she was gone.

I was left alone to my thoughts then, and as I maneuvered my way into the bathroom, I found myself unwillingly reliving the horrors of the previous night.

I think it was the dress that caused me to drink in the first place. I mean, if you were forced to wear something reminiscent of spoiled salmon, you'd drink, too. Honestly, I was up for anything that allowed me to become less aware of my excruciatingly grotesque appearance.

* * *

The wedding was nothing out of the ordinary. Olivia pranced down the aisle on the arm of her father, her protuberant eyes wet and glistening with tears. Everyone in attendance (save for me...I'm always the odd one out, aren't I?) oohed and aahed over her appearance in her wedding gown, and her mother, of course, was shedding tears of joy. Honestly. It was enough to make me sick.

The vows were exchanged, and my father, in one of his rare un-businesslike moments, allowed a few tears to escape his eyes. I nearly scoffed at the sight of him. He pledged his undying love and dedication to a woman for the second time in his life, but I had a sinking suspicion that it wouldn't be the last.

After my father and Olivia were finished being emotional saps, we did the traditional limo ride thing to the reception; in this case, it was taking place inside of the garden of some well-known mansion. I was accompanied by Olivia's younger brother, who had horrible breath and turned out to be excruciatingly boring.

As soon as we'd arrived at the reception, I broke away from the bridal party (which consisted of Olivia's pretentious friends and her dribble of a family) and made a beeline for Peyton and Aunt Karen. She and my Uncle Keith sat holding hands, while Peyton appeared extremely bored. I took the seat beside her and we immediately began talking, and all the while I had dreaded the time when I would have to rejoin the bridal party for dinner.

I suppose that's when it all started going downhill. As soon as I took my seat beside Olivia's brother and began eating my dinner, I felt a strong urge for something to drink--preferably something that would get me loopy very quickly.

"So, Hayley," the brother with bad breath had said to me as I downed my first glass of champagne. "Don't think I'm being too forward, but this is something I've always wondered. What type of knickers do New York girls prefer to wear?"

I nearly choked on my chicken as his words penetrated my ears. _What kind of knickers do New York girls prefer to wear?_ What kind of question was _that?_ It certainly wasn't one I would have expected to hear while having dinner at my father's wedding reception.

About a million red flashing lights starting going off in my mind, accompanied by loud, blaring sirens. _Perv alert_ crossed my mind as well, so as I grabbed another glass of champagne and downed it in one gulp, I thought of how to answer his unusual query.

"We don't wear _any_," I responded a few moments later, putting particular emphasis on the last word. "You know us New Yorkcans and our freedom...wearing underpants just seems so restrictive, you know?"

The look on his face was absolutely priceless. He looked as though he had just been clubbed over the head with a baseball bat. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and he wore an expression of mixed curiosity and revulsion. I smirked, stood up, and walked away from the table. To hell with finishing my chicken--I figured if I consumed enough alcohol, I'd get full that way.

Thus commenced the drinking; I had consumed seven flutes of champagne before I felt someone tapping my shoulder, and I turned around, wearing what I knew was a rather goofy grin on my face.

Peyton stood there, an amused expression flitting across her features; beside her was Rachel, the hardened look she always saved for when she encountered me plastered on her face; Nathan and Lucas, the two boys I had met at the party, were on the other side of her, wearing broad grins; and behind them, a boy stood looking calm and at ease.

"Hey," I greeted them; I knew my words were a bit slurred, though I would never admit to it.

"Hi, Hayley," Peyton said cheerfully, handing me another glass of the sparkling gold liquid. "We thought we'd introduce you to Jake ...he's another basketball player for the Tree Hill Ravens."

"Ah, basketball," I said, my goofy smile turning a bit lazy. "'Course, I should have expected you were another Basketball player...I'm Hayley...James, by the way." I extended my free hand to him, and the boy took it, smiling warmly.

"Jake Jagielski," he said as he let go. "Congratulations, you know, on your father getting married."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Congratulations? Thanks for the sentiment, but it's really not necessary. This is probably my father's biggest mistake yet...besides maybe abandoning my mother and I..."

Jake shifted uncomfortably, as did the others. Peyton shot them all an apologetic glance and said to me, "Er...Hayley, why don't you let me have that glass of champagne..."

"No, no, I'm fine," I assured her, however unconvincingly. "Just having a bit of a rough night, you know?"

"Right," she replied, concern floating around in her eyes.

"I've got the funniest thing to tell you, though!" I exclaimed as the memory of perv boy resurfaced in my mind. "Olivia's brother...you know, the one with the bad breath...d'you know what he asked me? He asked me what kind of knickers New York girls like to wear! Ha, ha!"

Rachel choked on her champagne, and the boys chuckled. "So...so you know what I told him, right? I told him that we didn't wear _any_. We New Yorkcans like to be free! Free from the restrictions of underpants!"

By this point, Nathan, Lucas and Jake were laughing until their cheeks tinged red. Rachel simply looked appalled, and Peyton was smiling in an embarrassed sort of way. I didn't really pay them any mind, though; my attention span was unusually short on that evening, and my eyes were already scanning the crowd for the one thing I always searched for when I was drinking: a guy.

Granted, three rather attractive boys were in my immediate vicinity, but something about the way Rachel glared at me told me that they were off-limits. Besides, all I wanted was a meaningless one-night relationship--you know the kind.

That was the trouble with alcohol and me. Two things that should never be mixed. I turned into a completely different person once I had a few drinks inside of me. I immediately turned to the one thing I had sworn off ever since my father had walked out of the door all those years ago: men.

"I suppose knickers are rather overrated," Nathan, the boy with the piercing blue eyes, said with a chuckle. He grinned cheekily, and I found myself smiling, though I had no idea why.

"I think we should go over and speak with Jim and Olivia," Rachel cut in, her voice snippy and exasperated. "We haven't had a word with them since we've arrived."

Lucas and Jake waved goodbye to Peyton and I, and followed Rachel through the crowd towards my father and his new wife. Nathan, however, lingered behind for a few moments, his crooked grin growing a bit wider as the seconds passed.

"Well, I'll see you later, then," he said at last, waving over his shoulder as he turned and walked away. I stood there beside my cousin and watched him fade into the crowd of people.

What happened next is still a bit blurry--I can't exactly remember what happened, or how I ended up in a darkened corner of the garden, kissing the face off of some waiter who had offered me yet another glass of champagne. All I clearly remember is walking away from Peyton and bumping into said waiter, and the rest is blank.

Hours must have passed--I must have spent ages in that darkened corner, surrounded by manicured hedges and bushes--but finally, a bit of my memory came back to me. I remember seeing the shiny outline of Peyton's hair, which had been falling around her face in loose curls. And next to her, looking worried and slightly confused, was Nathan.

I remember feeling strong hands grip my arms and pull me to my feet. The waiter I had been kissing so shamelessly had mysteriously disappeared, and I felt strangely relieved. The usual feelings of disgust and self-loathing were also present, but over the years I had learned to deal with those exceptionally well; I pushed them to the back of my mind, and dealt with them the following morning. Things always seemed to work out better that way.

I remember hearing the faint traces of Peyton's wispy voice, muttering incomprehensible words in a frenzied tone. I don't know if I said anything to her, or if I offered her any sort of explanation; the only thing I remember is feeling my mouth water, my stomach churning, and the remnants of my chicken splattering over Nathan's jacket.

After that, everything went sort of hazy and I slipped into that familiar darkness, the one I had promised myself I wouldn't fall into again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors notes**

Sorry if Nathan seems a little soft instead of the hunky Bad boy statues that he has.

* * *

**Hayley's P.O.V**

When I was younger, my father used to tell me that if I ever had trouble expressing myself, I should get a card. You know, greeting cards--like the ones you find at Hallmark stores. He used to tell me that there were just times in life when words failed you--like when someone died, or a co-worker got that promotion you'd really wanted--so, instead of making yourself look like a babbling idiot, you could buy a card. And voila, you could sympathize, congratulate, and love without having to say a single word at all.

They made cards for the death of a pet _(So Sorry for the Loss of Sparky...)_, for the purchase of a new home _(It's Yours, It's Real; Signed Deed, Done Deal!)_ and even those erotic cards that fifty-year-old women bought to entertain themselves _(You Haven't Had It This Good Since...Ever!)_. But of all the stupid, pointless cards currently in existence, the one I needed had never been marketed: _Really, Deeply, Terribly, Utterly Sorry for Vomiting My Dinner On You._

Really, Hallmark should have made a card for such an occasion. It probably happened more than people thought.

If I had puked on, say, Peyton, I wouldn't have been nearly as mortified as I was now. Not only was Nathan someone I barely knew, (a stranger, almost) he was famous in Tree Hill. I felt like the world's biggest idiot. And that was the understatement of the century.

My cousin, who reminded me more of Brooke every day, had insisted that I get out of bed and join the world of the living once again. I had grudgingly obliged, stumbling into the shower, going through the same routine I followed every day. Shower, hair, makeup, dress. It was the same every day; it never differed, never changed.

I would have been perfectly content staying in bed all day, sleeping off the massive hangover I was suffering from. But Peyton wouldn't have it. That determination, dedication, _persistence_--which got to be rather annoying, by the way--forced me out of bed and landed me here, walking lazily into the kitchen, my stomach tying itself in knots. In just under an hour, Nathan and the others (including the ever-insufferable Rachel) would be arriving at my father's house to pick up Peyton and I. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly thrilled to be going.

Peyton was perched on a barstool at the small island in the center of the kitchen, her blonde hair spilling onto the ceramic surface as she rested her head on her hand. As usual, she was flipping through a magazine--today it was home design catalog with a modern, all-white room featured on the cover.

"I don't understand why _anyone_ would want to decorate an entire room in wicker," she said as she flipped a page, her nose scrunched up in dislike. "I mean, it just looks..."

"Horrible," I finished for her, brushing past her as I made my way over to the refrigerator. "I think anything would be better than Olivia's bathroom, though." I shuddered as I envisioned the blindingly bright yellow walls and countless rubber ducks strewn throughout the room for "decoration."

She looked up at me, a thoughtful expression spread across her face. "It's not so bad," she said with a shrug. "It could be blue instead of yellow."

I groaned. "Do I _really_ have to go tonight?" I whined, steering the topic of conversation away from brightly colored rooms and decorative ducks.

She looked at me pointedly, her jaw set in determination. "Yes," she answered simply. "You do."

"But _why?_ Peyton, you don't understand how _sick_ I feel..."

She snorted. "Sick? Please, Hayley. You're embarrassed because of last night."

"Well, you would be too," I said defensively. "How would you feel if you pulled a stunt like I did last night?"

She paused for a moment, appearing as though she were thinking my words over in her mind. "I'd be mortified," she said at last.

"See!" I said triumphantly, throwing my arms in the air for emphasis. "You'd want to crawl into a hole and die too!"

"Not quite," she said airily. "I said I'd be mortified. I didn't say I'd become a recluse and avoid social gatherings for the rest of my life."

"I'm not becoming a recluse," I argued. "I just don't want to go out with Nathan after what happened."

"Oh, Hayley," she said with a heavy sigh. "Honestly, if he had been that repulsed by your behavior, he wouldn't have offered to take you home last night."

"He was being nice."

"No, he wasn't," she said. "Trust me, Hayley. Most people would have left you alone in the state you were in, leaving you to fend for yourself. But he didn't. He wanted to make sure that you were all right."

"Just because I didn't have another way home," I said, refusing to accept her logic.

"You could have called a taxi," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "My parents could have driven you home. Hell, _Rachel_ could have taken you home in her car."

For what seemed like the fiftieth time that day, I groaned in defeat. "Fine. So maybe he's just a nice guy. It doesn't mean that I'm not embarrassed anymore."

"I know," she said with a smile as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "But it'll fade away."

I looked at her, disbelief etched into every corner of my face.

She smirked. "Eventually."

I heard the bell ring. I heard the door open. I heard the sound of their voices bouncing off of the walls, sounding like distant echoes in my ears. My stomach churned uncomfortably, threatening a repeat of the previous evening. I was nervous. Sickeningly so. And when it came to me, that kind of feeling was foreign.

Anxiety was not something I experienced often. I had prided myself on being someone that accepted almost everything that came their way, and tackling the things they didn't. But since I had arrived in Tree Hill, it seemed like I was slowly changing. And I wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing.

"Hayley!" Peyton's voice rang loudly down the hall from the sitting room. "Everyone's arrived! Get out here!"

I glanced in the mirror quickly, checking over my reflection. I looked considerably better than I had the previous night; my hair was hanging loosely around my face, and I was dressed in jeans and a black shirt instead of a horrid pink gown. There was no mascara running down my face or vomit on the sides of my mouth, either, so that enhanced my appearance significantly.

Hesitantly, I crept out of my bedroom, making my way soundlessly down the hallway. As I neared the sitting room, the muffled voices became more distinguishable, and I stopped short as I heard someone say my name.

"How's Hayley?" a voice I knew to be Nathan's asked quietly. "She was...er...rather sick last night."

I felt my face grow hot in embarrassment. _Stop it,_ I mentally scolded myself. I couldn't believe how worked up I was making myself.

I heard a snort, followed by a high chuckle. "Yes, how _is_ poor Hayley? Her ego, I mean? She made a right idiot of herself last night..." Rachel. Of course.

"Rachel..." Peyton began warningly. But I barely listened. My embarrassment was rapidly dissipating and was being replaced by raging, boiling anger. I was tired of her acting like a complete bitch just because of some stupid comment I had made over a week ago. She needed to grow up and stop acting like an immature little brat.

With a deep, reassuring breath, I stepped out of the hallway and made my presence known to everyone standing in the room. I ignored the tentative smiles most everyone was offering me and walked straight up to Rachel, who was wearing her trademark smug expression. This battle raging between us was going to end--_now._

I looked at her fiercely, a fire burning within my eyes. She stared back at me, her brown eyes cold and unforgiving. "What the _hell_ is your problem?" I said in a surprisingly calm, even voice.

Her eyes narrowed, and her expression faltered for the most fleeting of seconds. In the blink of an eye, however, she recovered. "I don't understand what you mean," she said, her head held high, an air of superiority floating through her words.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," I retorted. "You've been nothing but a rude, inconsiderate, conniving little _wench_ since the first time I met you."

"You weren't exactly friendly on our first meeting either," she shot back, a slight pink tinge rising in her cheeks.

"Yes, and I apologize for that. But honestly, that incident on the plane was well over a week ago, and I think as adults we should be able to put it behind us and move on!"

She was quiet for a moment, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew I was right. I also knew that she was stubborn, like me; she wouldn't be keen on admitting she was wrong.

"Fine," she said at last, her voice sounding forced and strained. "Let's just forget about it."

"Fine by me," I said, turning away from her. Peyton's eyes caught mine for a moment, and for a split second I could see the twinkle that always accompanied her smile; she was proud of me.

I broke my gaze away from Peyton, and found myself staring straight into clear, blue eyes. For a moment I felt as though I was about to faint; my head swam dangerously and my breath caught uncomfortably in my throat. I had felt this way last night, before I'd passed out...but this, now, was different. Now, I was scared. Terrified, even. Terrified of the fleeting sensation in my stomach, of the way my heart beat faster as those eyes bore into my own.

I somehow managed to extract myself from the trance-like state in which I had been absorbed. I felt as though hours had passed, but I knew it had only been mere seconds. I realized, as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over me, that I had been staring into Nathan's eyes. His eyes had caused me to loose my footing, my resolve, my determination; his eyes were the reason why I was suddenly feeling so foolish, so unbalanced. I hated him in that moment.

"Hayley," he said with a soft smile, though I could tell that he was nervous. It was all in the way he stood: his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his body tense.

"Hey," I said, almost without thinking. For a moment I had forgotten about last night and all of the events that had transpired. But as a conversation with him became more evident, I was suddenly aware of everything I had done--it wasn't just the fact that I had thrown up on him. I remembered the waiter I had so shamelessly disappeared with, the one Nathan and Peyton had found me with. Under normal circumstances, I would have pretended like everything was fine, like none of it had ever happened; but somehow, this didn't feel normal.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, his hands still buried in the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans.

"Oh...I'm fine," I said, trying desperately to fight against the flush of embarrassment spreading over my face. "I mean, you know...better than last night."

He nodded. "I'm glad," he said, his smile growing a bit wider. I wanted to apologize to him then, but I held back; somehow, it just didn't seem needed.

"Okay," I said as Lucas's monstrous SUV sped down the highway toward vast, open countryside. "Will someone _please_ tell me where it is we're going?"

Nathan turned around from his place in the front passenger seat and smiled cheekily at me. "You'll see," he said evasively, giving me the smirk I had learned he was famous for.

"If it's a club, I'm going to personally kill each and every one of you," I said seriously.

"Oh, not a fan of the club scene?" Nathan asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Not at all," I replied. "So if you're taking me to one, I suggest you turn this car around _now_."

"Don't worry," Jake said from beside me. "It's not a club."

"Then what is it?" I asked; I was dying to know where we were going. "Why can't you just _tell_ me?"

"Honestly," Peyton huffed from the very back of the oversized vehicle. "You're acting like children, the lot of you!"

"Fine," Nathan said, rolling his eyes. "We're going to the lake."

"At nine o'clock at night?" Rachel questioned shrilly from the backseat. "What's the point in that?"

"Skinny dipping," Lucas said nonchalantly as he switched lanes.

"Oh, shut up," Rachel said, clearly agitated. "Why are we _really_ driving all the way out to the lake at this time of night?"

"We already told you, Rach," Jake said with a smirk--one that rivaled Nathan's. "We're going so we can see all of you in your nuddypants."

"You're a pig," she said, though a smile was threatening to spread across her lips at any moment.

"It's a gift," he said as he turned to face me. I rolled my eyes playfully at him, and he smiled. "We're really going to just get away from it all," he added in a hushed voice only I could hear. "You know, away from everything."

I nodded, understanding him.

I turned my head and looked out of the window, watching as the streets of Tree Hill faded into rolling expanses of plush, green countryside. Fields and meadows dotted with small yellow flowers surrounded us on all sides, making me feel as though I were driving through a lush, gigantic garden. I had never been one to appreciate nature--the outdoors had never quite been my thing. But as we passed through North Carolina's rolling hills and sprawling meadows, I found myself slowly falling in love with the beautiful scenery.

"This is nice," I said, more to myself than to anyone else in the car.

"Beautiful," Nathan said, his eyes meeting mine for the smallest of seconds. I turned away quickly and refocused my attention on the scenery, doing my best to ignore the tingles that raced throughout my body as his eyes lingered on me.

I had promised myself that I wouldn't allow myself to have feelings for anyone, especially someone I met while vacationing in Tree Hill. Which was good, because I most definitely wasn't falling for Nathan. Well. That's what I was telling myself, anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hayleys P.O.V**

We'd been at the lake for little over an hour. Jake had successfully managed to throw Rachel into its icy waters, and she had retaliated by dragging him in with her. Lucas, Nathan and Peyton sat sipping beers on a picnic table, and I could hear the sound of their laughter floating through the night. As for me, I sat on the bumper of Lucas's SUV, lost in my own thoughts.

Everything, from the laughter to the crumpled beer cans that littered the parched grass, felt strangely normal. It felt as though we were all just ordinary teenagers, partying away a Sunday night. Tonight, I didn't think of myself as Jim James's daughter, and I didn't acknowledge my company as Tree Hill Basketball Stars. Tonight, I was just another teenage girl sitting underneath the stars.

Tonight was different somehow, some way. I wasn't worried about my mother or how she was holding up without me. I wasn't thinking of Brooke, or of how much I missed her. My mind wasn't focused on the future, filled with college and choices and careers. Instead, it was set firmly in the present, on the way the cool breeze tickled my cheeks, and the way the stars twinkled brightly above me, like a blanket of diamonds.

I wasn't angry or restless or scared tonight. It was as if everything--all of my negative emotions, my worries, my fears--had been temporarily vanquished, allowing me a few hours' peace and normalcy. I breathed in the seemingly perfumed honeysuckle air, and for the first time in years, I felt calm.

"Having fun all by yourself?" I was so startled by the sound of that voice that I jumped and emitted a small gasp of surprise. Nathan, sitting down beside me and handing me a bottle of water, laughed. I shook my head and laughed along with him.

"You scared the hell out of me," I commented a few moments later, taking a rather large swig of water.

"I noticed," he said, still smiling. "Thought you were going to wet yourself for a minute there."

I slapped his arm playfully. "Oh, shut up." But for once, I didn't really want him to.

"So...what _were_ you doing over here, all alone?" he asked after a few moments' silence. Under normal circumstances, I would have accused him of being nosy, but somehow I knew that he was genuinely interested.

I sighed softly and shrugged. "I don't know," I replied, focusing my vision on the ever-twinkling stars. "Just thinking, I guess."

"Really?" He seemed slightly surprised. "You don't really strike me as that type of person."

I looked at him sharply. "What, you think I'm incapable of thinking or something?"

He shook his head, realizing his mistake. "No, that's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I just meant that you seem more the kind of person with a take-charge attitude. You know, someone who spends more time _doing_ than sitting around pondering things."

I nodded--he was right, after all. "I usually am," I admitted, somewhat regretfully. "I try to keep myself busy so I don't have to think about things." I was surprising myself; I was opening up to him with a natural ease I had never experienced before. I found it incredibly easy to talk to him, which was strange, since I had only known him for less than a week.

He smiled wistfully, his eyes following mine upward towards the sky. "I'm the opposite. I'd give anything to have a few moments to myself to just sit and think. Like now. I just feel...relaxed. Peaceful. These kinds of moments are rare for me."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to have your life," I said, the words pouring from my lips. "All of the attention...it must be tiring."

I had expected him to be offended by what I'd just said, but as I turned to face him, his expression was quite the opposite. He looked relieved.

"Nah, the attentions not bad though you're the first person I've met that isn't envious of my lifestyle," he said, grinning. "It's a nice change."

Shrugging I imaged my childhood and the fact that my father hadn't been a very large part of. "I guess my father wouldn't mind your lifestyle." shrugging again, "His life now keep's him away from me a lot. Consequently, I've never been a huge fan of the glitz and glamour lifestyle."

He nodded his understanding. "It has its perks," he admitted. "I'm grateful for what I have, don't get me wrong." He smiled, and--yes, this is true--I _blushed_. I couldn't believe myself.

"So you're enjoying yourself?" I asked him, my feet kicking the soft blades of grass beneath me.

"Very much." He smiled again, and my face grew warmer.

"Me too," I said, and I meant it.

A few moments of silence followed my words. I heard crickets chirping in the trees surrounding the lake on all sides, and Peyton's high, tinkling laugh echoed in the darkness. A new feeling now joined my peacefulness and calmness, one that started in my stomach and gradually traveled throughout my body. It was tingling, like I was excited, only I knew I wasn't. I had a feeling I knew what it was, but I wouldn't acknowledge it. That, I knew, was dangerous territory, and I was not willing to venture into it.

"So, Hayley," Nathan began, repositioning himself so that he was facing me. "I've known you for a few days now, yet I know absolutely nothing about you. So go on. Tell me about yourself." He grinned cheekily, and I rolled my eyes, a smile making its way onto my lips.

"There's not much to tell," I said truthfully. After all, I really wasn't all that interesting.

He shot me a pointed look. "I find that highly unlikely. You've been on this earth for what, eighteen years, and you have absolutely _nothing_ to talk about?"

I smirked. "I thought you said that you didn't know anything about me."

"I don't. I guessed." He answered.

"Lucky guess, then," I laughed. He narrowed his eyes at me, which prompted me to laugh even more. "All right, all right. I'll tell you a _bit_ about myself."

He grinned. "I'm listening."

"Well," I said uncertainly, not knowing where to begin. "As I'm sure you've already figured out, I'm here visiting because of my father's wedding. I'm staying until the end of August. At first I didn't want to come here, but now I'm glad I did." I smiled. "Uh...I'll be attending New York University in September."

"What're you going to study?" he asked, seemingly impressed.

"Well..." I hesitated. Now that I actually thought about it, music didn't seem quite as appealing as it had last spring when I'd decided to attend NYU. "I'm planning on going into music, but...I'm not sure if that's what I want anymore."

"It's understandable," he said. "Sometimes you have to try several different things before you find something you truly love."

"But I don't want to do that," I said. "I just want to _know_ what it is I love. I don't want to search for it."

A small smile spread smoothly across his lips. "You don't necessarily have to search. You'll just dabble in different things until one day, when you least expect it, you'll find it."

"But how will I know?" I asked, somehow knowing that these words meant more to me than just future career choices.

"You just do. It's one of those things. One day, it'll hit you, and you'll just know." He looked at me then, and as our eyes locked, I saw the stars burning in the clear depths of his eyes.

"I'll remember that," I said softly, and he smiled. "So what about you? Are you planning to go to college?"

He sighed. "Yeah," he replied. "I want to go, just not to where my parents are pushing for."

"Oh," I said.

"I wont to go to Duke University," he said with another heavy sigh.

"Then why don't you?" I asked him.

"My parents. I'm afraid of disappointing them." He shook his head slightly. They're happy for my success and everything, but I know it's not what they wanted for me. So if I go to a university they approve of, it'll make them happy."

"But it's ultimately your decision, Nathan," I pointed out. "Not theirs. I understand where you're coming from, but you've got to do what makes you happy. Trying to win over your parents' approval won't get you anywhere."

"I know," he said resolutely. "But I just feel as though I've disappointed them so much already..."

"Nathan, are you happy with who you are?" I interrupted.

He looked at me for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes."

"Then that's all that matters," I said firmly. "Your parents aren't going to approve of every decision you make. But you can't let that stop you from making them."

He seemed to think over my words in his mind for a few moments, and then smiled. "Thanks, Hayley," he said, and I knew he meant it.

"Anytime," I said with a smile. "So..."

"HAYLEY ANNE JAMES!" My head snapped up instantly, my eyes wide. At first I thought my mother had mysteriously appeared and was yelling at me. I soon found out, however, that it was Peyton.

"What _is_ this?" she bellowed, her voice thick with rage. "Get over here NOW!"

I shot Nathan a fearful look--he looked just as surprised as I felt. I stood and hurriedly made my way over to my cousin, painstakingly aware of everyone's eyes following me.

"What are you yelling about?" I asked in a low, quiet voice.

She smiled, and the hot anger that had been present only seconds before instantly vanished. "Oh, nothing," she said cheerfully. "I just wanted you to come over here."

I stared at her, dumbstruck. Was she _serious?_ "Then why didn't you just call me over in a calm, non-psychopathic fashion?"

She looked at me incredulously. "What's the fun in that?" she said, as if it were the most logical explanation.

I rolled my eyes, but decided to ignore her strange behavior. "Anyway," I said, "what did you want me for?"

"Oh, right," she said, suddenly turning serious, though a playful twinkle was dancing around in her eyes. "You and Nathan seem to be...er...enjoying each other's company."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "No," I said, a slight flush rising in my cheeks. "Don't even start with that shit, Peyton. Just because I'm talking to someone doesn't mean I..._like_...them."

"Right," she said, making it perfectly clear that she didn't believe me. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" I managed to ask as I was being dragged across the field towards the SUV. Nathan was still sitting on the back bumper, a half-empty cup of beer in his hand, his face scrunched up in confusion. I shot him a helpless look, and his eyebrows rose.

"To the car," she answered me. "We're going to do a bit of girl talk."

"Girl talk?" I repeated as we neared the massive black vehicle. "I don't do girl talk."

"You do now," she said, stopping abruptly in front of Nathan. "Out of the way, Nathan. We've important matters to discuss."

Eyebrows still raised, he stood from the bumper, his eyes on me. I shrugged and mouthed, "I have no idea" before Peyton pulled me into the car and shut the door, hard. I plopped down into one of the captain seats, and looked around; much to my dismay, Rachel was seated in the passenger seat, though she was lacking her normal bitchy expression.

"Right," Peyton began, taking a sip from her beer. "We are going to talk. About boys."

"Boys?" I repeated. "Peyton, don't waste my time..."

"I'm not," she assured me. "I don't mean gossiping about boys. I mean _talking_."

"What's the difference?" I just wasn't following her.

"There's a world of difference, Hayley!" she exclaimed. From her place in the front seat, Rachel nodded her agreement. "_Gossiping_ about boys involves giggling and prepubescent crushes. _Talking_ about them is a much more mature way of doing these things."

I rolled my eyes. "All right, then. _Talk_."

"This has more to do with you than anything," she said without hesitation. "I want to know why you're so against getting involved with someone."

"You brought me in here to ask me _that?_" I said, somewhat disappointed.

"Well, yes," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's a serious question. And it needs to be addressed."

"Really? I don't think it does," I shot back coolly. "It's my business, Peyton. Not yours."

A flicker of hurt crossed over her features. However, she recovered quickly. "You're right. It isn't my business. But I'm curious. And I would think, as your cousin, someone you apparently trust, that you would at least let me know why you're so against relationships and romance."

"It's complicated," I said after a long silence. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Peyton..." I began, but upon seeing the determined look etched into her face, I decided to explain matters as best I could. "Look. My entire life, I grew up with my parents, thinking that life was picture-perfect. I thought I was happy, I thought my dad was happy, I thought my mom was happy. But we weren't. That much became evident the day they sat me down and told me they were getting a divorce. I always thought--even when they fought--that everything would turn out all right in the end. Sort of like love would prevail over everything."

She nodded, indicating for me to continue. As much as I didn't want to say the words that left my lips, I couldn't stop myself--it was as if I had no control over anything. I was just talking, unable to do anything else.

"But then they divorced, and my dad moved back here, to North Carolina. And my mom...she was never the same after that. She tries to act like everything's fine, but we both know it isn't. My dad, on the other hand, met another woman in the blink of an eye and married her not long after. I just...I can't let myself get hurt like that. I won't put myself through something like that."

"Hayley, I understand..." she began, but I cut her off.

"You don't, though," I said, shaking my head. "You've grown up with your parents being happy and in love. So you think...you think that love is real, that it'll conquer everything. That it's a risk worth taking. And for you, maybe that's okay. But it's not for me."

I turned my head and stared out of the window. In the distance I could see Jake, flashlight in hand, waving it around crazily. The soft ray of light bounced in every direction, illuminating various objects in the process. And I watched the light move, this way and that, feeling my peace and serenity slowly slipping away from me.

"So that's why, Peyton," I said, opening the door. "That's why love isn't real." I climbed out of the car and felt the soggy grass on my bare feet, cool and soothing. I walked back into the night, back into my sanctuary, where I was just another teenage girl under the stars.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"So, where are you guys headed?" I asked Nathan as I sat on his bed, flipping through one of his basketball magazines. It was a Wednesday, and it was raining; his room was depressingly dark, save for the small lamp that burned in the corner of the room.

Everyone had congregated inside of Nathan's flat earlier that afternoon under the pretense that we were helping him decorate. According to Jake, he had been living in the flat for six months and had done nothing with it. However, none of us had done much decorating that afternoon; we watched movies and stuffed ourselves with pizza and Coke instead.

Now, as the clock on Nathan's bedside table read 5:40, I was helping him pack for a basketball thing that they have after the grand-final. Rachel had dragged Peyton back to her flat to help her, and Jake and Lucas had left, promising to return by six so they wouldn't be late for their flight, which departed from the air-port at eight-twenty.

Nathan placed a pair of socks into his suitcase and looked at me, smiling. "New York," he said simply.

I nodded. "New York is one of my favorite places in the world. I love the city it's one of the reasons why I decided on NYU."

"What's your favorite?" he asked, throwing a T-shirt into his suitcase.

I stared at him, openly confused by his question. "Favorite?" I repeated, dumbstruck.

He grinned. "You said New York was _one_ of your favorite places in the world. What's your favorite place?"

"_Oh_," I said, feeling exceptionally dense. "Well, my favorite place is my family's old summerhouse in Houghton Lake--it's a small town a few hours away from where I live. But my father sold it after the divorce." I dropped my gaze and stared at the floor, memorizing the patterns in the rug. An old anger flared within my chest--I had always resented my father for selling that house.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he began walking towards me.

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile onto my lips. "I'm fine."

"Because I didn't mean to, you know, drag up any bad feelings," he said, looking at me intently. He sat down beside me on the bed, his body only inches away from my own.

"You didn't," I assured him, even though he had. It wasn't his fault, after all--he hadn't known how angry I was at my father for disposing of the place in which most of my childhood memories resided. "Sometimes I just miss it."

Nathan opened his mouth to reply--perhaps to offer me words of comfort, or maybe to say something he knew would cheer me up--but was interrupted by the sound of his front door banging open, followed by the sound of Jake's unnaturally high-pitched voice: "Nathan, darling, I'm home!"

Nathan rolled his eyes and groaned, falling back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands. "My life would be so much more peaceful if that wanker weren't in it."

I laughed. "Yes, but it would also be considerably less entertaining."

"True," he agreed.

The bedroom door creaked open, and I caught a glimpse of blonde hair before it shut abruptly. A few moments later it reopened, this time revealing Jake, wearing an amused smirk on his face. He raised an eyebrow suggestively as his eyes lingered on Nathan and I, causing my cheeks to tinge pink.

"Oh, sorry mate, didn't mean to interrupt," he said, his smirk still resting smugly on his face.

I was mortified, but I also wasn't going to allow Jake to jump to conclusions. "Shut up, Jake," I said with a fierce glare. "Nothing is going on."

"Whatever you say," he said, and with a wink, he disappeared from the doorway. That man was truly _infuriating_.

Nathan sat up and smiled nervously at me, his cheeks a bit flushed. "Sorry about him," he apologized, running a hand through his short hair.

"No need to apologize," I said with a smile. I stood from the bed and walked over to his suitcase. "Come on, you've got to finish packing."

He smiled and walked over to me, his hand momentarily brushing against mine as he went to place a shirt inside of the suitcase. A chill ran through my body, and I immediately thought back to Jake's words--and for a hopeful, fleeting second, I wished that there _had_ been something going on between us for him to interrupt.

"I don't know what you're doing at the moment, but you'd better put the TV on quick. Your pal Nathan is giving an interview at that basketball thing you were talking about," Brooke said to me later the next night over the phone.

I scrambled for the remote, flipping through an on-screen guide for an entertainment channel.

Abby sighed exasperatedly on the other end. "Honestly Hayley…"

"Here we go," I said, ignoring her completely, as I found the channel I had been searching for. Sure enough, Nathan's face appeared on the screen, and he was answering a reporter's questions, a broad grin spread across his lips.

"Wow, he's really cute," Brooke commented. "And to think, you get to hang out with him all summer."

"He's a really cool guy," I said before I could stop myself. I knew that I had just screwed myself over--Brooke would never let me live this down.

"Was I right or what?" she said triumphantly, and I knew that a smug grin was currently resting upon her lips. "I _told_ you that you'd meet a guy there."

"It's not like that, Brooke," I insisted. "Nathan and I are friends. Nothing more."

"Maybe for now," she said knowingly. "But by the end of the summer, the two of you will fall madly in love and you'll praise me for my all-knowing best friend skills."

I snorted. "In your dreams. Like I told you before I left, I didn't come here looking for a guy. It's the last thing I need right now."

"I think it's _exactly_ what you need," she argued. "You're depriving yourself of the happiness you deserve."

"I'm not," I protested. "How can you say that being in a relationship will make me happy? If you haven't noticed yet, Brooke, I don't depend on men for my happiness."

"I'm well aware of that, Hayley. I know you don't need a man to make you happy--you're not that kind of girl, and that's a _good_ thing. But there's nothing wrong with being with someone, either. You're not going to compromise yourself if you allow yourself to love."

"There's no such thing," I muttered as my stomach flipped--Nathan had laughed at something the reporter asked, and it was like music to my ears. Ha. Or not.

"There _is_, Hayley," she said with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "You can't keep shying away from love and relationships because of what happened with your parents..."

"Don't talk to me about that," I said sharply. "That's the last thing I want to discuss right now."

I pried my eyes away from the television screen and focused them on the vibrant red of the carpet. I needed to get my mind away from thoughts of Nathan. It wasn't healthy, especially since we were just friends. There were no feelings there for him. None at all.

Again, Brooke sighed. "So you don't like Nathan? Not even a little bit?"

"No," I answered firmly, keeping my eyes securely focused on the ground.

"All right then. Look at the television screen right now," she said seriously.

"What?" I said in surprise.

"Just do it, Hayley," she said, and to my surprise, I did. What I saw made my stomach churn much like it had the night of my father's wedding, except this time it wasn't because of consuming too much alcohol. No--this time the reason was much, much worse.

_Jealousy._

Nathan was no longer answering questions; he wasn't standing near Rachel and Lucas, he wasn't even with any of the other Basketball members. Instead, he was standing off to the side, holding hands with a short, curvy brunette. He was looking at her, a sort of dazed expression on his face, a loopy smile playing at the corners of his lips. The girl leaned into him and laughed, her long hair falling in sheets around her face.

I barely heard the sound of the reporter's voice over my own heavy breathing, but I managed to hear enough: the girl whose hand was intertwined with Nathan's was his girlfriend of more than a year.

_I'm not jealous_, I said to myself, trying to calm my erratic breathing. _I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous..._

"It's okay, Hayley," I heard Brooke say quietly, soothingly, in the most understanding of voices. But she didn't understand. _Couldn't_ understand. Because there was _nothing_ to understand.

"I...well, it's pretty late, Brooke," I said in the cheeriest voice I could muster. "I've got things to do. So I'll call you in a few days. Bye." And without waiting for her reply, I pushed the off button on the phone and threw it across the room, barely flinching as it collided with one of Olivia's vases and smashed itself to pieces.

Sunday afternoon had arrived sooner than I had anticipated. The day was dark, gloomy, and storms in the immediate area had been predicted. I could see the faint traces of pink and purple mixing in with the blackness of the sky, signaling to me that a thunderstorm was brewing above us. I also knew that it was one storm I would not enjoy, for I would be in the company of the one person I wanted to see least: Nathan.

Peyton was driving down the roadway to the airport in my father's convertible, exceeding the speed limit considerably. However, Laura's mediocre driving skills were the least of my worries; my stomach was tying itself in knots over the fact that in less than an hour, I would see Nathan, and all of my negative feelings that I had been trying so desperately to forget would be dragged up along with him.

"How are we going to fit everyone in here?" I asked my cousin as she swerved away from a car. I glanced in the backseat--even someone as tiny as Rachel would have trouble sitting in such a cramped space. I had no idea how three fully-grown men _plus_ Rachel were going to fit back there.

Peyton shrugged. "We'll find a way," she said nonchalantly, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"I don't know, Peyton," I said uneasily. "I honestly don't think we'll all fit."

"Well, let's not worry about it right now," she said, nearly colliding with a car coming down the opposite side of the road. "Once we get there, everything will be figured out."

I sighed. "All right," I agreed reluctantly. "We're just picking up the guys and Rachel, right?"

She glanced at me momentarily and nodded. "Yeah. Who else would we take?"

Images of the small brunette girl hanging on Nathan's arm immediately flashed across my mind. A surge of anger rushed through me, but I quickly recovered; after all, I had nothing to be angry about. It wasn't as if I had feelings for Nathan. We were just friends. That was all.

"Well...I watched a bit of his interview on television," I said, and noticed Laura nodding her head. "And Nathan was with a girl, and the reporter said it was his girlfriend...so...I thought that we might have to pick her up as well."

"Girlfriend?" Laura repeated, her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Nathan never mentioned a girlfriend before."

"I'm just telling you what I heard," I said, shrugging. "The reporter said they'd been together over a year."

"That can't be right," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I mean, don't you think someone would've mentioned that he had a girlfriend?"

"Maybe he likes privacy," I offered.

"Doesn't make much sense if he's parading her 'round on television," she said, her eyes wide. "This is too strange."

I nodded. "A bit," I agreed. "But...it doesn't matter, I guess."

I glanced over at my cousin and was surprised to see her face contorted in an expression of disbelief. Without warning, she veered to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes, jerking my body forward uncomfortably.

"What is wrong with you?" I shrieked, clutching my chest. "You're in the middle of traffic, you can't do things like that!"

Peyton turned to look at me, her eyes wide and knowing. "I can't believe I never noticed it," she said, laughing in disbelief. "It was right there in front of my face, and I just never paid it any mind."

"What?" I asked her frantically, my chest still throbbing.

"You...you fancy Nathan!" she exclaimed, hitting her hands on the steering wheel in emphasis of her newfound revelation.

I shook my head furiously. "No, I don't," I said, a bit too quickly.

"You do," she said, quietly this time. "Or else you would have never brought up the fact that he has a girlfriend."

"I was just asking if we had to take her home too!" I shouted defensively. "You're taking this completely out of proportion!"

"No, I'm not," she argued. "I'm making perfect sense. All that time you've been spending with him...getting jealous over his girlfriend..."

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!" I roared, so loudly that Peyton gasped in shock. "You're wrong, and so is Brooke! I think I could admit if I liked someone! I'm not a twelve-year-old with a crush! I DO NOT LIKE NATHAN! Get it through your head!"

Peyton still looked unconvinced, but she nodded all the same. "Fine," she said, restarting the engine. "But if you ever, you know, come out of denial, let me know." With that, she pulled back into traffic, a thick, uncomfortable silence settling between us, with a small part of me knowing that she was right--she and Brooke had _always_ been right.

And that, perhaps, was what sickened me the most.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Are you going in?" Peyton asked me as she parked the Convertible in the overcrowded parking lot of the Airport. She dangled the keys from her hand, giving me a tired, exasperated look.

"I guess," I said unenthusiastically, opening my door and stepping out into the damp afternoon. I raised my head to the sky, realizing that it was going to pour within minutes.

"We'd better get inside," Peyton said, grabbing my arm and running like mad towards the entrance. "We're going to get soaked if we don't!"

I didn't argue. I ran with her to the doors, my hair falling into my face. Just as we entered the airport, the rain began falling in heavy torrents.

"That," Peyton said, trying to catch her breath, "was close."

I nodded my agreement. "It was," I said, panting.

"Now, which gate were they coming in from?" she wondered aloud, checking a piece of paper in her hand. "Ah! Okay. This way."

I followed her through several brightly-lit terminals, passing stores, restaurants and novelty shops along the way. With every step I took, it seemed like my heartbeat increased tenfold; the closer I walked towards Nathan's gate, the more nervous I became.

"Finally!" Peyton exclaimed a few minutes later as we reached the security checkpoint. "They won't let us past security, but Rachel told me that they'd meet us here."

I nodded, but didn't reply. Peyton and I found seats on a nearby bench, and we both plopped down onto it gratefully - our legs were tired from all the running and walking we'd been doing.

I focused my attention on the travelers passing through security, some dressed in business suits, others in jeans and T-shirts. The looks on each of their faces were the same, though: all of them appeared worn and tired, as if boarding a plane was the last thing they wanted to do. I didn't particularly blame them - flying had never been my favorite means of travel.

My eyes subconsciously scanned the crowd of tired travelers for a sign of dark brown hair and a pair of piercing, shining blue eyes. Once I realized what I'd been doing, however, I immediately averted my gaze to the floor. I had no idea why I was allowing myself to venture into such dangerous territory - I knew the risks, the fact that my heart would surely be broken - but somehow, I didn't seem to care as much as I had before.

Before I'd left for Tree Hill, I'd been fiery, assertive, independent. And now...now I was nothing more than a confused eighteen-year-old girl. I hated how I'd changed so drastically in such a short period of time. I'd allowed a man - the one thing I'd sworn would never affect me - change my attitude, my behavior. I'd allowed him, however unknowingly, change me into a girl I barely recognized anymore. All because I dared to look into his eyes, dared to take a chance I knew wouldn't be worth it in the end.

I had been right, as I usually was when it came to such matters. He'd had a girlfriend, something he'd failed to mention. But I knew, as I sat on that airport bench, surrounded by people, that it wouldn't have mattered. Even if he had told me of his status, I would have still taken the risk I knew I should have ignored. I would have still looked into his eyes, allowing my heart to flutter as they locked with mine.

But now, I was determined. I could feel my anger flaring within my chest, the anger that had considerably subsided since I'd met him. I could feel myself tensing, always on guard, always prepared. I could feel the girl I knew so well starting to resurface, overshadowing the girl I had become, the girl I would never allow myself to be again.

I would keep a safe distance from him now. I would make small talk with him on occasion, and I'd be friendly - but not friendly enough. I wouldn't allow myself to have feelings for him anymore. It wasn't only because of his girlfriend - it was because of me, my pride, my dignity. I was determined to never be so incredibly foolish again.

I breathed in slowly, deeply, calmly. I felt Peyton nudge me, and I knew that they were approaching us, so I kept breathing, steadily now, rhythmically.

I heard Rachel's squeals of delight as she spotted Peyton, and I felt my cousin stand up to greet her best friend. I could hear the others greeting her warmly, but no one had noticed me yet. It was better that way, I reasoned - perhaps then I wouldn't have to talk to Nathan at all.

I should have kept my eyes focused on the ground, on the millions of feet that scrambled across the shining white floor. I should have never allowed myself to look at them, to let my eyes meet his. But against my better judgment, I felt my head lifting, slowly, finally revealing myself to them. And as his eyes caught mine, I felt my heart beat faster, so fast I thought it would burst from my chest.

The first thing he did was smile. He smiled the way he had the first time I'd ever met him. My mind instantly flashed back to that night, the evening of the party, and I realized something I hadn't before. That was when it had all started. My feelings for Nathan had started that night nearly three weeks ago, and I had only just admitted to them now.

"Hayley," he said, his smile broadening, as he began moving towards me.

I stood up, my arms folded tightly across my chest. I wasn't smiling, and I didn't appear happy to see him - I must have looked extremely unwelcoming. But I didn't care. Not anymore. My caring days were over.

What he did next took me completely by surprise. He dropped his suitcase, letting it crash loudly against the floor. He took a few strides towards me, and it was almost like slow motion in the movies - time seemed to stand still. His smile was still resting happily on his lips, and I felt my heart flutter as he moved closer to me, his body only inches from my own.

Before I could react, before I could pull away, his arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders. He pulled me into him, embracing me for the first time since we'd met. His hands slid down my back a bit, resting comfortably between my shoulder blades. And just like that, in a single, solitary moment, my resolve shattered into a million microscopic pieces.

My arms soon found their way around his neck, and I pushed myself closer to him, my head resting on his chest. I breathed in his scent - it was earthy, refreshing - and I knew, from that moment on, that I was doomed.

* * *

"Hayley," Peyton said, looking at me with sympathetic eyes. She was sitting on my bed, resting her weight on her hands, her expression concerned. I hated that - I didn't want to be pitied.

"Peyton," I said in frustration, rolling my eyes for emphasis. "Really. I'm okay with this."

She sighed, and I knew she wasn't convinced. In all honesty, I wasn't convinced myself.

"You say that," Peyton said, staring at me intently, "but I don't think you mean it."

"Well, I do," I replied, slipping into my flip-flops. "Trust me for once, okay?"

"I do trust you. But I can't help but think that you're really bothered by this whole plan we've got going for tonight. I mean...you're going to meet his girlfriend."

"So what?" I said hotly. "I told you before, and I'm telling you again, that I do _not_ like Nathan. All right?"

She sighed, then nodded reluctantly. "All right. Whatever you say."

I turned away from her, determined not to let her see the anger flashing in my eyes. The truth was that she was one hundred percent right, as she normally was. I was _extremely_ bothered by the fact that tonight, I was meeting Nathan's girlfriend for the first time. I was certainly not looking forward to watching them kiss and hold hands and act like mindless idiots all night long.

After we'd gotten back from the airport two nights ago, Nathan had announced that Kate, his girlfriend, was dropping in for a visit. He had come up with the brilliant idea of suggesting that we all find dates and go to a new restaurant that had opened in Tree Hill. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly thrilled to be going.

The doorbell rang loudly, causing me to jump and emit a small squeal of surprise. Peyton snorted, rolling her eyes at me. "Shut up," I said, walking out of my room and down the hall to the door. My stomach was tying itself in knots - I was extraordinarily nervous to see the two people I knew were waiting just beyond the door.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Standing there, dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a vintage dress shirt, was Nathan. Beside him stood the same brunette girl I had seen on television at the premiere, wearing a small, tentative smile. I glared at her.

"Hey, Hayley," Nathan said, smiling and hugging me loosely. He motioned towards the girl. "This is Kate."

I nodded curtly, forcing a smile onto my lips. "Hi," I said as she extended her hand. "I'm Hayley."

"Nice to meet you," she said, still smiling.

"So, have the others gotten here yet?" Nathan asked as he led Kate into my father's living room.

I shook my head. "No, just Peyton," I replied. "Rachel and Lucas said they'd be here with their dates around seven."

"What about Jake?" he asked, a bit of an edge to his voice. "What time is he getting here to...uh...pick you up?"

I stared at him, a bit confused and surprised by his tone. "Well, he's not really 'picking me up' since we're all going to the restaurant together," I said, a bit more sharply than I'd intended. "But, he should be here any minute."

And, as if on cue, the doorbell rang. Tearing my eyes away from Nathan, I walked back over to the door and opened it. Jake stood there, holding a single lily - my favorite flower - in his hand.

"Hey," he said quietly, smiling. "This is for you."

"Jake," I said as I took the flower, "you didn't have to do that."

"I know. But I remembered you saying that lilies were your favorite flower, so I thought I'd get you one."

"Thank you," I said, and I meant it. It was sweet that he had remembered something like that, even if he wasn't exactly the person I wanted to spend my evening with. It wasn't that I didn't like Jake - he was an amazing person, and a great friend - but I would have rather spent the evening with Nathan, the one person I knew was off-limits.

Still, I smiled at Jake and allowed his arm to slip around my waist as he led me into the living room, away from Nathan's penetrating gaze.

* * *

"Another scotch on the rocks, please," Nathan said, holding up his empty glass for emphasis. The waitress smiled and nodded, politely asking if anyone else wanted anything more to drink. Everyone declined, save for Nathan, who slammed his glass on the table a bit too loudly.

I looked at him, a mix of concern and amusement shining within my eyes. He'd already downed four shots of scotch, and it didn't appear as though he would be stopping anytime soon. Kate shot him a reproachful look as he knocked over her half-empty glass of champagne, spilling the gold liquid all over the pure white tablecloth.

"Sorry about that, love," he apologized, his words slightly slurred. He grabbed a napkin and began mopping up the mess, finally stopping after Kate grabbed his hand and held it firmly within her own.

"He usually handles alcohol much better then this, you know," Rachel whispered from beside me, her voice laced with concern. "I don't understand why he's doing this."

I merely shrugged, trying desperately to be nonchalant about the situation, even though I inwardly cringed each time Nathan took a sip from his glass.

"So, Hayley," Nathan said loudly, breaking my attention away from Rachel. "Are you having a--" _hiccup_ "--good time with _Jake_ tonight?"

I looked at him sharply, wondering why he was acting so strangely. He had barely spoken two words to me all evening, and when he finally did, he was asking about _Jake?_

"Yeah, actually, I am," I said, smiling slightly in Jake's direction. He returned it, but quickly dropped his gaze as Nathan glared at him.

"Well, that's fantastic," he said, grabbing his glass and downing its contents in one gulp. "Just bloody fantastic."

"Nathan, maybe we should go," Kate suggested, shooting everyone an apologetic smile. "You don't seem well tonight."

"No, Kate, I'm _fine_," he said with a dry laugh. "Perfect, actually. Brilliant."

"Nate, mate, maybe Kate's right," Jake said cautiously, choosing his words carefully. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"All right," he said angrily, slamming his glass onto the table and standing up abruptly. He staggered a bit before steadying himself on the back of Kate's chair. "I can see when I'm not bloody wanted. Maybe the rest of you should leave as well, to give Jake and Hayley some _privacy_."

"And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" I said, glaring at him. I felt as though I had just been slapped - his words stung and left me shaking in anger.

He opened his mouth to reply, but apparently thought better of it. Instead, he placed his hand on Kate's back and said, "Let's just go home."

She nodded, standing up, an embarrassed smile on her face. She and Nathan left quietly.

A thick, uncomfortable silence hung over our table as we watched Nathan and Kate leave the restaurant. Jake shifted beside me, his leg brushing against my own. And in that moment, I remembered that night under the stars, when Nathan's leg had so casually brushed against mine, sending a series of shivers down my spine. But now, with Jake, there was nothing.

But maybe, I reasoned, there wasn't _supposed_ to be anything there. Maybe those shivers that had raced so unexpectedly throughout my body were reserved for the man who had just left the restaurant with another woman on his arm.

I dug my fingernails deep into the palms of my hands, barely aware of the pain. Somehow, it didn't seem to compare to the dull ache in my chest, the ache that let me know that the game was over, and I had lost.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Thanks for walking me, Jake," I said as we reached my father's door. I looked up into his face, bathed in the soft glow of the light, noticing how his lips turned upward slightly in a small, boyish grin.

"My pleasure," he said, shoving his hands deep within his pockets. He looked at me, his eyes piercing my own, making me feel slightly unnerved. "I had a really good time with you tonight."

"I did, too," I said, though it was somewhat of a lie - I didn't enjoy myself nearly as much as I should have. Nathan's drunkenness and Kate's mere presence had certainly put a damper on my mood.

"Well..." he said uncertainly, shifting his weight nervously. I felt my stomach lurch unpleasantly; somehow, I knew what was coming next. He was going to kiss me.

"Jake," I said, watching as his face fell a bit. "I..."

He smiled halfheartedly, shrugging. "I know," he said, understanding what I couldn't say. "You fancy Nathan."

"I...what?" I spluttered, and I could feel my face growing warmer by the second. "No..."

"It's all right, Hayley," he said, his smile still firmly in place. "You're not horribly obvious; no need to worry. I can just tell. Call it a gift."

I remained silent, deciding that saying nothing was my safest bet.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, shuffling his feet. "Nathan has a girlfriend. But he doesn't care about her. Not really."

"Then why is he with her?" I asked, an unknown feeling racing throughout my body. My head was swimming, and I felt horribly off balance.

"He brought her here this weekend to end things with her," he said, staring straight into my eyes. "He told me it's because of the distance, but I know differently."

"What do you mean?" I found myself asking, my heart beating faster, my breath catching in my throat.

"It's because he met someone else. Someone who understands him. Someone who doesn't care about his fame. Someone who only sees him, not a star basketball player."

"Jake..." I began, but found that I couldn't finish what I had to say. It was too painful, too risky, too dangerous.

"You're scared," he said, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "But that's life. You're going to be scared, and skeptical, and terrified, even. But sometimes, you've got to forget everything and take a chance." He dropped my hand and smiled, taking a few steps away from me. "Goodnight, Hayley."

He turned and walked away from me slowly, and I watched as he retreated down the hallway to the lift, his words still fresh in my mind.

* * *

The night was thick with a heavy, tangible silence. It was almost as if I could reach out and wrap my fingers around it, like a blanket just barely covering my body. I was used to empty silences, but tonight it was different somehow. Tonight I wasn't just lying in bed, dwelling on a past I couldn't change, wallowing in an anger I knew would never dissipate. Tonight, my father didn't matter, Olivia didn't matter, _I_ didn't matter.

That's what my problem had always been. It was always about _me,_ _my_ feelings, _my_ fears. Nothing else had ever mattered to me - all I had ever cared about was myself. It was my selfishness that had prevented me from finding my own happiness. I had selfishly held onto every negative feeling, every bittersweet memory, in an attempt to show my father exactly what he'd done to me. I'd spent two years assuring myself that I had every right to feel angry and resentful at my father, all because I couldn't simply tell him how I felt. So I'd made myself miserable and bitter instead, hoping that maybe he'd come back if he saw how unhappy I was.

But I knew now that it had never mattered. Not to him. He'd never cared how heartbroken I'd been after he left, and I knew he never would. I'd spent two years trying to gain his attention, but I hadn't succeeded. And I knew now that I would _never_ succeed, not when it came to him.

So maybe now, after all that time, it was time to give up. Maybe now it was time to move on, to let go of my anger, my fear. Maybe now it was time for me to start living.

_"Sometimes, you've got to forget everything and take a chance."_ Jake's words floated through my mind, and I knew, then, that he was right. Life wasn't about sure things, because nothing ever was. Nothing was guaranteed, and even though that terrified me, I knew that I had to take the plunge.

And as I lay there, staring up at my ceiling, I knew that Nathan was a risk worth taking. Even if things didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted them to, it would still be worth it in the end. And even though I was scared, I couldn't let it stop me from doing what I knew would make me happy.

A loud, booming knock on the door ripped me abruptly from my thoughts. I glanced at the clock - it was 3 AM. Shaking, I tried to stand, my legs wobbling dangerously beneath me. I had no idea who would drop in at such an ungodly hour, and that feeling of uncertainty unnerved me. Still, I crept out of my room silently, slowly making my way toward the front door.

Another knock resonated throughout my father's spacious house, louder this time. My heartbeat was quickening, and my breath was coming in fast, uneven gasps. I couldn't deny that I was a bit frightened - for all I knew, a murderer could have been lurking beyond that door.

That was fairly unlikely, though. If it were a murderer, they would have probably found another, less obvious, way inside. But you don't exactly think rationally when you're terrified.

I moved closer to the door, my hand now resting on the doorknob. I undid the lock carefully, holding my breath as I pulled the door open.

"Oh my god," I breathed as I took in the sight before me. Nathan was standing there, his clothes ripped and tattered. His right eye was bruised and swollen, and he had several small, bleeding cuts along his face. From the looks of things, it seemed like he had been mugged.

He let out a small moan of pain, his hand rubbing the back of his head gingerly. He looked up at me through squinted eyes, and I saw, then, that they were red and very badly bruised. I must have stood there for ages, just staring at him, not fully comprehending what was happening.

Finally, I reached out and took hold of his arm, leading him into the flat. I closed and locked the door, fearing that whoever attacked him had followed him.

"Hayley," he said, his voice quiet and low. "Hayley..."

"Shh," I said, leading him over to one of the couches in the sitting room. I sat him down and plopped down beside him, my hands tentatively resting on his arms.

I flicked on the light beside the couch and gasped as I examined his face more closely. He looked absolutely horrible. Seeing him look so helpless, so hurt, broke my heart.

"Nathan," I said, my eyes still lingering on his bruised face, "what happened?"

He breathed in shakily, his body quivering slightly. He looked up at me and offered me a half-smile, and I felt the unfamiliar feeling of tears prickling the corners of my eyes.

"Actually, hold on a minute," I said, standing up. "I have to get you cleaned up first."

He nodded, and I went down the hallway to the bathroom to retrieve the first-aid kit. I also went to the kitchen and filled a bag with ice, and wrapped it in a small towel - I knew that it would help take down the swelling of his eye.

I reentered the sitting room and sat down beside him, opening the lid of the first-aid kit. I pulled out a few cotton swabs and a bottle of peroxide, and set to work on cleaning his cuts.

"This might sting a bit," I warned as I dabbed the swab over the first cut. He winced and emitted a soft groan of pain, and I felt so horrible in that moment that all I wanted to do was cry. And crying was not something I did very often.

I placed gauze over his cuts to quell the bleeding, and I let my hand linger on his face for a few moments, my fingers softly tracing his jaw. Before I knew what was happening, his hand was clasped firmly over my own, halting the movement of my fingers. He stared straight into my eyes, and I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest.

"Thank you," he said, his fingers interlacing with my own. "For everything."

I could only smile, because words failed me in that moment. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but nothing seemed good enough. So instead, I squeezed his hand lightly and placed the ice over his eye gently, watching as his tired face relaxed.

We sat there in silence for what felt like hours, Nathan's head resting on the soft cushion of the couch, my hand placed comfortingly over his own. His eyes were closed, hiding the striking blue I had become so fond of, and his face was calm and still, as if he were asleep. I allowed my thumb to stroke his hand slowly, letting him know that I was there, and that I wouldn't leave.

"Hayley," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Hmm?" I squeezed his hand slightly, and he squeezed back, the butterflies in my stomach now swarming around wildly.

"I...I didn't tell you what happened," he said, and I could feel his body tensing beside me.

"You don't have to if you're not up to it," I said softly.

"No, I want to tell you," he said firmly. "You need..." He paused. "I need you to know what happened."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Okay," I whispered, an indescribable feeling racing through me.

He sat up a bit, wincing slightly, and opened his eyes. Again, his eyes found mine, and I found myself falling deeper and deeper into their seemingly endless blue depths. I would have been content just sitting there, sinking into his eyes.

"I don't normally drink like that, you know," he began, shaking his head slightly. "Whenever I do, I usually end up in a situation like this. I do something incredibly stupid, and then I have to deal with the consequences once I've sobered up a bit. Like now."

"Nathan, really, it's all right..."

"No, Hayley, it's not," he said, his hands clenched into tight fists. "It's not all right. I'm a burden to you right now - I'm on your couch, in your house, and you're taking care of me, all because I was a stupid prat earlier."

"Nathan..."

"I can't tell you how much it means to me." He paused, and I looked at him, baffled. "Not many people would have done this for me. The fact that you took me in and helped me, no questions asked, proved to me what a wonderful person you are, Hayley. There aren't many like you in my life right now."

"What about Kate?" I asked, finding it rather odd that his girlfriend wasn't nursing him in his time of need.

He laughed dryly, removing the ice from his eye. "Well, I didn't think she'd be too keen on helping me when she's the one who gave me this black eye to begin with."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "She...she did that to you?" I asked shrilly, hot anger rapidly building within me.

He nodded. "Yeah. Because I did the one thing I don't regret doing tonight."

"Which is?" I prompted, though I already knew what he was going to say.

He shrugged. "I broke up with her," he said simply, casually, as if it were no big deal. "And instead of giving her the standard it's-not-you-it's-me spiel, I told her the truth. I told her that I was falling for someone else."

My breath caught in my throat at his words. I wanted to have hope, but I was so afraid of being let down...I couldn't believe that he was beginning to have feelings for me. I just couldn't.

"So I guess she didn't take it too well," I said, motioning toward his still-swollen eye.

"Not at all," he replied. "Called me every name in the book, and then, before she left, she finished off with a nice punch in the face. Not a slap - a _punch_."

"Well, I think that much is obvious from the swelling and the lovely shade of purple outlining your eye," I said, smirking.

He chuckled. "Yeah, well, I think that was the most pleasant portion of my evening. After Kate left, I decided to go out - even though I was a bit on the tipsy side, I thought a walk would do me good. Well, needless to say, that was a _huge_ mistake."

"Yeah, I am rather curious to find out how the rest of your face got bruised up," I said, absentmindedly placing my hand over the gauze on his face.

"In short, I fell. _Hard_. I was walking round the park just down the street - you know the one, right?" I nodded. "I don't know what I tripped over, but before I could stop myself, I was falling face first onto cold, hard cement. Not very pleasant, I must say."

I cringed. "Sounds painful," I commented.

"It was - _is_. I knew I wouldn't be able to walk all the way home, and I knew your house was only a few streets away, so I decided to come here. I still feel horrible about troubling you at such a late hour, though."

"Don't," I said, truly meaning it. "I'm glad you came here."

He was silent for a few moments, but his eyes never left mine. And as I looked into them, I could see something, the same something I had felt building in my chest since I'd met him.

His lips turned upward in a smile, and I felt myself smiling back. "So am I," he said softly, sending a series of shivers down my spine.

His words were followed by a long, comfortable silence - the two of us sat there, content in the quiet. Soon, I found myself dozing off, and I felt his arms wrap around me in a safe, warm embrace. I was vaguely aware of my head resting upon his chest, and I could faintly hear the sound of his heart beating, strong, steady, and loud.

His fingers ran through my hair softly, and I felt the same shivers I had felt the night underneath the stars race through my body. I knew then, in my state of haziness, what I was getting myself into. And I was more than willing to take the plunge.

Because even if this was a mistake, I knew that it would always be my favorite one.

* * *

There's this soaring feeling in my chest, sort of like my heart's going to burst out of it at any second. My breathing is slow and steady and erratic and labored all at once - it's probably the most exhilarating thing I've ever felt in my life. I think I must be dreaming.

_But even dreams aren't this good._

Too true - I don't think I've ever imagined this feeling in even my wildest of dreams. And believe me, I've had my share of wild dreams.

And get your minds out of the gutter. Not _those_ kinds of dreams. Even though...well, I'll just shut up now, yes?

My head is resting on something incredibly soft, yet strong at the same time. I can hear a _thump, thump, thump_ in my ears, and I know without opening my eyes that I'm with Nathan, and it's his heartbeat that I'm listening to. And somehow that comforts me and sends this warm, unknown feeling racing through my body. Strange, but pleasant.

His fingers are tangled in my hair, limp and motionless. But still, I'm getting shivers just _knowing_ that they're there.

I can see sunlight peaking through the windows, but I think I'll sleep for a little longer, even if my dreams aren't as good as reality.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Jim, I really think we should..."

_No._

"Olivia, you can't expect me to allow this to go on in _my_ home..."

_No. Go away. It's too early for this._

"_Our_ home, Jim. Just let her sleep..."

"She's not alone! She's with Nathan!"

_Nathan? His fingers are still in my hair, I think..._

"Jim, she's eighteen years old, don't you think you're overreacting..."

"NO!"

My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the room and finally focusing on the slightly blurred outlines of my father and his new wife. Olivia's skin glowed from her two weeks in St. Bart's, while my father's was a rather painful shade of red.

"Hayley." He said my name as if it were some sort of infectious, non-treatable disease. I didn't need to look at him to tell that he was frowning, disappointment heavy in his eyes.

"Hmm?" I muttered into Nathan's chest, only now realizing that I was still lying next to him, his arms wrapped loosely around my body. I shot up quickly.

"What in the _bloody hell_ do you think you're doing?" my father hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously. I'd never seen him so livid in my entire life.

"Sleeping," I replied, stifling a yawn. I glanced at Nathan, resisting the urge to grin as he drooled a bit onto his pillow.

"With Nathan?" he said, his voice so low and deathly calm that it almost frightened me.

"Well, not in the way _you're_ thinking," I said as I stood from the couch, careful not to wake Nathan. "I mean sleeping, as in closing my eyes and snoring and, of course, the occasional puddle of drool that makes its way onto my pillow."

"This is _not_ the time for your sarcasm, Hayley," he said sternly.

"It isn't? I'm terribly sorry, Dad, I thought it was the perfect time for a good laugh." I rolled my eyes at him and made to move past him, but he reached out and wrapped his fingers around my arm, halting my movement.

"I am being completely serious," he said through clenched teeth. "This type of behavior will not be tolerated, Hayley."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you mean by _this type of behavior_. As far as I can tell, I haven't done anything wrong. Unless, you know, sleeping has become a crime."

His grip on my arm considerably tightened. "You know perfectly well what I mean. You were _sleeping_ on _my_ couch with a boy in _my_ living room in _my_ home. I don't know how your mother handles things, but you will not have sleepovers with men while you are under _my_ roof."

I glared at him, yanking my arm out of his grasp. "For your information, Nathan was hurt last night and came over, so I helped him. We fell asleep together, but nothing else happened. But even if something did, it wouldn't be your business. I'm eighteen years old. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"You are in my house, and you will follow my rules," he said, his voice steadily rising.

"No," I said defiantly. "No, I won't. The only reason you even _care_ about this is because it could somehow ruin your Job. If reporters got hold of this information and published that I was some sort of tramp in the tabloids, then everyone would be whispering about Jim James's daughter. And we couldn't have that, could we?"

Something flickered behind the cool blue of my father's eyes, something I couldn't quite identify. I knew, though, that I had struck a nerve, and I felt a self-satisfied smile slowly inching its way onto my lips.

"This has nothing to do with my job, Hayley," he said, his voice considerably less angry.

"Right," I replied, scoffing. "_Everything_ is about your job, Dad."

The room went silent, save for Olivia's random squeaks of fright as her eyes darted between my father and I. I could feel an intense rage burning within me, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I completely lost it with my father. This confrontation had been postponed for too long - it was time to stop pretending like everything was fine between us when it very clearly wasn't.

"Hayley?" I whipped around and stared into Nathan's striking eyes, his expression confused and bewildered. His hair was mussed and tousled from sleep, and his bruised face looked even worse than it had the night before.

"Nathan," I said, almost without thinking, "go down the hallway to my bedroom and wait for me there. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"No, Nathan," my father bellowed, his voice loud and booming. "Get your things and leave. Now."

"Jim..." Nathan started, but was silenced by another ground-shaking yell from my father.

"I will not tolerate this type of behavior in my house!" he yelled, causing Nathan to sit back deeper into the couch. "You will not violate my daughter under this roof! Get OUT!"

"What?" Nathan said confused.

I sighed in frustration, glaring daggers at my father. "He thinks we slept together," I said.

"Jim, nothing happened between..."

"OUT!"

Nathan glanced at me momentarily, looking defeated. He ran a hand through his hair and, with a heavy sigh, stood from the couch. He bent his head low and whispered, "Maybe I should go."

_No. I want you to stay._

"Yeah," I said, trying desperately to mask the sadness that lingered in my voice. "Maybe you should."

He nodded and turned away from me as he slowly made his way to the door. He glanced back at me as he pulled it open, offering me the smallest of smiles before disappearing into the hallway. I felt my heart sink deeper in my chest.

This wasn't fair. None of it was.

I rounded on my father, fixing him with a hard, cold stare. "I'm not going to stand here and scream how much I hate you, because really, what does that do? You'd know I wouldn't mean it. So instead, I'll say this. You are quite possibly the world's worst father." As soon as the words left my lips, the rage left my father's eyes and was replaced with hurt, the same hurt that had lingered inside of me for the past two years.

"I don't know why I came here in the first place. I think I hoped that you would change, that maybe you'd show me one ounce of the attention you shower Olivia with. But I should have known better. I really wasn't anything to you, was I, Dad? Just an inconvenience, right?" I laughed dryly, even though tears were threatening to spill over onto my cheeks at any moment. "And...And do you know what the sad thing is? I don't hate you for it. I never could."

He stood there, his mouth thin, trying to make himself look as passive as possible. But I could see the hurt and realization that resided within his eyes, and that was all I needed. I didn't need to hear his apologies or his excuses. I didn't need to hear him admit that he had been wrong. The look in his eyes was more than enough for me.

I looked away from him and retreated down the hallway to my bedroom, intending on collecting my things. I was going to leave, and somehow I knew, even then, that I wasn't going to come back.

* * *

Rain pelted the windows of Peyton's bedroom window, blurring the view of the quaint park that was located directly across the road. I remember her telling me about the scavenger hunts and picnics she had had with her father inside of that park, and I found myself recalling the summers at the beach with my own father, building sandcastles and going on piggy-back rides. I smiled wistfully as another tear trickled silently down my face.

"Here." Peyton's voice broke into my thoughts, bringing me sharply back to reality. In her hands were a steaming mug of hot tea and a plate of biscuits. She placed the plate onto the table and handed me the tea, and I accepted it gratefully. I smiled at her as I took a sip of the soothing liquid.

"Mum told me that she talked to your dad," she said after a few minutes' silence. I didn't reply; instead, I took another sip of tea, focusing on how much comforted I felt as it warmed my body.

"She said he's worried about you," she continued. "He's in a right state over this, Hayley."

I scoffed. "He should be," I said, wiping a stray tear from my eye.

"I don't disagree with you," she said, sighing, "but you've made your point, yeah? It's been two days, and he's apologized."

"It doesn't make a difference," I said, a sharp edge laced in my voice. "His apologies are worthless to me. I don't need more words, Peyton. I need _action_."

"Your father is a busy man," Peyton said. "His career is demanding, Hayley. You've got to understand that."

I raised my eyes above the mug, and I stared at her incredulously. "You have no idea what I'm going through," I replied angrily. "You have no _clue_ what it's like to grow up without your father around. I've dealt with his career for eighteen years. Maybe it's time for him to start dealing with me."

Peyton sat there, an unreadable expression present on her face. I knew that she wanted to say more, and I knew she wanted to convince me to talk to my father, but I also knew that she wasn't going to push it. She knew that I would come around in my own time. And the fact that she understood meant more to me than words could ever describe.

She sat back on her hands, as was her custom, and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. She gave me one of her famous pointed looks, and I knew what was coming next.

"Right. Enough talk about your dad, then," she said, a small smile making its way onto her lips. "Tell me about what happened with Nathan."

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Do I have to?"

She nodded. "Yes. And I want _full_ details."

"Are you sure?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "I mean, the details might scar you for life."

She hurled a pillow at me as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."

"Fine," I said with a dramatic sigh. "Well, you already know the basics. Kate hit him, he fell in the park, and stumbled onto my doorstep." She nodded, a sign for me to continue. "In all honesty, nothing happened. I cleaned him up and put him to bed. That's all."

She gave me a look that clearly conveyed her disbelief of my words. "That's not all of it," she said confidently, a smile now resting smugly on her lips.

"Well...I mean...see, the thing is..."

"Spit it out, Hayley."

"Well, I, er...IthinkIlikeNathan." I said the last five words quickly, making them run together in a jumbled mess.

Her smug smile widened into a broad grin, and she let out a loud, self-satisfied laugh. She rolled her eyes, and in a tone that clearly said I-told-you-so, she replied, "Surprise, surprise."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Broke up with Kate."

"They weren't working out. It had nothing to do with me."

"Came to your house in his time of need, and cried on _your_ shoulder."

"My house was within walking distance."

"Gives you that _look_ every time he glances at you."

"That's because he...wait, _what_ look?"

Peyton snorted and rolled her eyes, basking in the glory of her victory. "See. I _told_ you that he fancies you."

"He does not," I argued, even though a tiny ray of hope was beginning to shine within me.

"Does too," she countered, sounding eerily similar to an eight-year-old version of Brooke.

"Tell me why he would like someone like me when he could have someone… someone like Rachel or any of the other cheerleaders." I stared pointedly at her, waiting to see how she would recover from that statement.

She sighed exasperatedly, pulling at the ends of her long, sandy hair. " Nathan wants someone... _normal_. You know, someone whose name isn't known though out Tree Hill."

"My name is known though out Tree Hill, dumbass," I said, smacking her lightly upside the head. "Have you forgotten about my father, The Lawyer, Jim James?"

"No, _idiot_, I haven't forgotten who your father is. _His_ name may be well known here, but _yours_ isn't. You're just his daughter - of course that brings you _some_ publicity, but not nearly as much as Rachel or Bevin."

"Bevin?" I repeated, Confused.

"One of the cheerleaders," she said distractedly. "Honestly Hayley, brush up on your Tree Hill Basketball knowledge."

"Remind me why I'd want to."

"So maybe you'd know a bit more about Nathan," she offered meekly with a half-hearted shrug.

"Oh yeah, because that's the kind of girl I am and all," I replied with a scoff. "I need to be obsessive before I can get serious."

"You know what I mean," she said in frustration. "Why are you always so difficult?"

I placed a finger to my chin and pretended to be deep in thought. "Hmm," I pondered, stroking my chin, "I don't know. Why do _you_ think I'm so difficult?"

"Damn it Hayley!" she shrieked, finally losing it. "You're impossible!" She groaned once more in frustration before stomping out of her bedroom, leaving me alone with a satisfied smile spread wide across my lips. Annoying her was _so_ much fun.

* * *

The sound of "Cambridge" by Motion City Soundtrack yanked me out of the half-sleep I had been absorbed in. I scrambled for my cell phone, finally picking it up as the song faded away.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly, my voice still thick with sleep.

Hayley?" a voice cackled through the static. It was faintly recognizable, but I couldn't put my finger on who it was.

"Yeah," I said, stifling a yawn. Damn whoever this mystery person was for waking me up during my nap.

"Hey, it's Nathan." Silence. My breathing quickened, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

_Say something, you dunce._

"Oh, hey!" I said, a bit too cheerfully. I coughed. "I mean, _hey_."

"Hey," he said. "What're you up to?"

"Oh, nothing," I replied, biting my lip nervously. "I was just...er...hanging out with Peyton."

"Oh, right," he said. "I was just wondering if I could come over for a bit? That is, if you aren't busy."

_Oh god, I look like a wreck...say no! Make up an excuse!_

"Sure," I said, mentally kicking myself. "I'm at Peyton's, you know, so you'll have to come here."

"No problem," he said. "I'll just ask Rachel for the address; she's calling on the other line."

"Okay," I replied, my stomach doing massive flip-flops. "I'll see you in a little while, then."

"See you." _Click._ Silence.

"DAMN!" I shouted, throwing my cell phone onto the ground, hard.

"LANGUAGE!" Aunt Karen bellowed from downstairs, and I cringed.

"Sorry," I called back, running a hand through my hair. I stood from the bed and began pacing the length of the room, wondering what to do with myself. I had never been this nervous about seeing someone in my entire life. And the weird thing was that I felt like I had absolutely no reason to be nervous in the first place. After all, it was just Nathan.

_Yeah, just the Nathan you have a massive crush on._

"Damn you logic," I cursed under my breath.

I rummaged through the suitcase I still hadn't unpacked, searching for something decent to wear. Just as I pulled out a faded pair of jeans, Peyton popped her head into the room, a curious expression on her face.

"What're you doing?" she asked, stepping into the room.

"Looking for something to wear," I replied distractedly, yanking an old University of Michigan hoodie out of the suitcase.

"For what?" she asked, her eyebrows raised inquisitively.

I sighed. "Nathan's coming over," I answered shortly.

I turned to face her, and for a few moments her expression remained unreadable. Then, when I expected it least, she burst into a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, a sour expression lingering on my face.

"You...you're trying to...to look good for Nathan" she shrieked, still howling with laughter. I, on the other hand, didn't see the humor in the situation.

"Wow, Peyton, that's _so_ funny," I said edgily. "Must've taken you _ages_ to come to that conclusion."

"No," she said, her laughter subsiding considerably. "No, I just meant that it's so unlike you to do something like this. I mean, you've always struck me as the type of person who is comfortable with themselves no matter what. The kind of person who doesn't feel the need to impress others."

I dropped the sweater I had been holding upon hearing her words. She was right. Since when had I ever tried to impress anyone? I had always been myself, and had never been ashamed of that. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Why start now?

"Yeah," I replied, picking up my favorite worn, faded band T-shirt. "Who've I got to impress?"

She smiled at me before turning and stepping out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. I smiled to myself, slipping into my T-shirt and old, ripped jeans, completely comfortable with myself.

* * *

A black Mercedes, stopped outside of Peyton's house after a few minutes Nathan stepped out of it. His eyes hidden by sunglasses, hands deep within his pockets, he walked up the walkway that led to the front door. I stood just beyond the door, staring out of its small window, watching him approach with an ever-increasing feeling of uncertainty rising within me.

A few nights ago, I had been more than willing to take a chance with Nathan. I had been ready to take the plunge and dive right into inevitable disaster. But now, as my stomach tied itself into permanent knots, my reluctance and fear was once again bubbling to the surface.

I had half a mind to run upstairs as the doorbell rang. My head was spinning so furiously that I felt as though I was going to faint.

_Breathe, Hayley. Just breathe._

Hands shaking, I turned the doorknob and held my breath as the door swung open. My eyes immediately fell upon him, taking in his slightly tousled hair, tight-fitting black shirt and small, smirk.

_Oh, wow._

I must've stood there for ages, just starting at him. I could only imagine how incredibly stupid I must have looked.

_Say something, moron._

Right.

"Hey," I said, feeling a slight flush rising in my cheeks. I inwardly cringed.

"Hey," he said, his smirk widening.

I stepped aside and held the door open. "Do you want to come in?" I mentally kicked myself. Of course he wanted to come in.

_Smooth, Hayley. Real smooth._

"Yeah, thanks," he said, brushing against me as he stepped into the house. The shivers I had come to associate with him once again raced down my spine and traveled throughout my body, bringing a small smile onto my lips.

I led him into the sitting room, which, to my surprise, was empty. I caught a glimpse of Peyton disappearing into the kitchen, and as she caught my eye, I flashed her a grateful smile. She smiled back and turned into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her.

"So," I said, settling into the soft, plush couch. I honestly had no idea what to say to him.

"So," he said, running a hand through his hair. "How are you? After what happened with your dad, I mean."

"Oh," I said, shrugging. "I'm okay. A bit embarrassed, but okay."

"Embarrassed?" he repeated, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Well, yeah. The way he treated you was completely inappropriate. And...well, what he said about us...you know, sleeping together. That was...er...mortifying, to say the least."

"Just a bit," he replied, chuckling. "But I do understand where he's coming from. All fathers are bound to be a bit overprotective of their daughters."

"True, but he needs to realize that I'm a grown woman. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"I know," he said quietly. "But maybe you should talk to him. I mean, you won't be here forever. You're leaving at the end of the summer."

I sighed, a dismal smile forming on my lips. "I know. That's what saddens me the most."

He looked up then, his eyes finding mine, and in that instant I saw something floating within them that I hadn't noticed before, something I had never allowed myself to believe.

He sighed, his eyes never leaving mine. "Me too."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Fancy going out tonight?" Laura asked, flopping down beside me on my bed.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Where to?"

"There's a party at a Tavern," she said excitedly. "Rachel invited us."

"Oh?" I asked her in a bored, tired tone.

"I think it's just a get together," she replied. "Just a night out with friends."

"So Nathan's going to be there?" I asked, not bothering to hide the curiosity in my voice. There was no point in denying my feelings for him anymore - Peyton would see right through me anyway.

She nodded, the self-satisfied smirk she saved for when I talked about Nathan plastered onto her face. "Yeah, he'll be there," she said. "But..."

"But what?" I asked, now turning to face her.

She paused. "Your dad will be there."

I groaned loudly, sinking even deeper into my pillow. "So that means I'll have to either avoid him at all costs or make awkward conversation with him. Now that'll be a pleasant evening."

"It won't be as bad as you think," she assured me. "I think your dad's realized what a prat he was being. I'm sure he'll apologize as soon as he sees you."

I looked at her, doubt etched into my face. "I wouldn't be so sure. My father and I are equally stubborn - I doubt either one of us will apologize."

"Quit being so bloody negative," she said to me sharply, slapping me lightly on my arm. "You'll go tonight and have a good time, regardless of what happens with your dad."

I sighed, allowing a faint smile to spread across my lips. "Okay," I agreed. "But I'm only agreeing to go because I have absolutely nothing better to do, and this _is_ supposed to be a vacation, so I suppose I should enjoy myself while I can."

She looked at me knowingly, rolling her eyes. "It has nothing to do with the fact that Nathan's going to be there, right?"

I smiled. "Nope, nothing to do with it at all."

* * *

"Wear this," Peyton said, thrusting a long, flowing skirt into my hands. "You'll look smashing in it."

I held the skirt up to get a better look at it, and wrinkled my nose in dislike. "No," I said flatly, flinging the skirt onto the bed. "I don't do skirts."

"Hayley, come _on_," she whined, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes. "You're always so...so..._generic_."

"Generic?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows.

"I just mean that you're always wearing the same thing," she said hurriedly. "Jeans and T-shirts, and those beat up old Converse of yours. Don't you think it's time for a change?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Hayley, you're beautiful," she said, suddenly sounding serious. "Why don't you ever show it off? Why are you always hiding?"

"I'm not hiding," I said defensively. "I just prefer my jeans, T-shirts and beat up old Converse, thank you very much."

"That's fine and good," she said, "but maybe, just for tonight, you can wear something different. Something _beautiful_."

I eyed her suspiciously, watching as she bit her lip nervously. "What's this all about, anyway? Normally you don't care _what_ I wear. Is there some special occasion I'm not aware of?"

"No," she said, and I actually believed her. Strange. I was always skeptical of everything.

I sighed, grabbing the skirt off of the bed and charging into the bathroom. "Fine!" I yelled, closing the door rather loudly behind me.

I could only imagine the look of satisfaction plastered across my cousin's face at that moment. I cringed.

_Damn. She always wins.

* * *

_

The night was cool and breezy, the wind providing a light, refreshing change from the humid days that had been scattered throughout the month of July. North Carolina had been subjected to a rather horrendous heat wave weeks previously, and it seemed that now it was finally dying down, being replaced by storms and cool breezes.

I stood just outside of the Tavern, my eyes observing the indescribable beauty of the area. It was dusk, and bright, brilliant lights outlined the smooth ripples of the lake that was near by, showcasing its elegant beauty.

A strong gust of wind swept over me, sending my hair flying in all directions. I could only imagine how I looked, my hair blowing madly with wind, then falling back around my shoulders. My skirt billowed about my calves, the soft, silky material brushing against my legs. And in that single, solitary moment in time, I felt beautiful.

Everyone else had long gone inside, back into the warmth of the Tavern. Peyton and Jake had disappeared ages ago, their hands lightly intertwined while they sipped from flutes filled with sparkling gold champagne. I smiled as I thought of them - only recently had I noticed the spark between them, the fire that danced within their eyes as they caught sight of each other.

Lucas, Rachel and Nathan had been talking at a table when I'd wandered outside, all of them laughing at something Lucas had said They really did look like best friends - smiling and comfortable, different yet the same.

My father had also been inside, sipping champagne with Olivia clinging to his arm. His eyes had ventured in my direction only once, and as soon as I'd noticed him he'd looked away. He hadn't attempted to speak with me - he hadn't even offered me a smile, _anything_ that would have let me know that he was aware of my presence. He looked past me as if I wasn't there at all, as if I was nothing to him, just another face in the crowd.

But none of that seemed to matter now. For once I wasn't angry or moody or even remotely cynical. For once I was just myself, standing against the wind, reveling in the cool breeze brushing against my cheeks.

Things seemed to make sense to me as I stood there, my eyes staring into the darkness that was beginning to blanket the city. Maybe things weren't supposed to be perfect. Maybe things with my dad would never be all right again - and maybe that was okay. Maybe nothing was supposed to happen between Nathan and I - and maybe that was okay, too. But maybe something _was_ - and that would be even better.

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?"

At the sound of this voice, I jumped and emitted a small squeak of surprise. I lost my footing and began to fall to the ground below, and would have if a pair of strong arms hadn't grabbed me by the waist and kept me up. I looked up into his face, smiling embarrassedly at him, my face growing warmer by the second. He only smiled back, his eyes twinkling in the darkness.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Nathan said, and I was still aware of his hands on my waist. I looked down just as he did, and his hands immediately left my body, an embarrassed smile of his own creeping onto his face.

"I didn't mean to fall over," I said, and he laughed. "Guess I'm just not used to wearing heels."

"I don't understand how women can wear those things," he said with a visible shudder. "They look horribly uncomfortable."

"They are," I agreed, making a decision. I bent down and slid the shoes off of my feet, tossing them aside. The cement under my feet felt cold and damp, which oddly soothed me and put me at ease.

"Better?" he asked, the wind blowing through his hair. I couldn't help but notice how wonderful he looked standing there, bathed in the lights reflecting off of the tavern.

"Much," I replied, smiling. "They were too restrictive."

He smirked. "Kind of like underpants."

"God," I said, covering my face with my hands. "That night was _so_ embarrassing."

"No," he said, chuckling, "it was hilarious."

"Maybe for you," I said, my bright red face still hidden. "I made a complete fool of myself."

"Haven't we all?" he replied. "You at least have the ability to laugh at yourself."

"I guess so," I said, letting my arms fall to my sides. "I could've been so mortified that I might've never talked to you again."

"Now I'm even more glad that you have a sense of humor." I felt my face reddening again at his words. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I think my life would be considerably more dull if you weren't in it."

I tried to laugh his statement off. "I'm sure you would have managed."

He looked at me then, his eyes piercing my own. And all at once, I felt myself becoming dizzy, my head spinning, jumbling every thought that raced through my mind. "I'm being serious," he said, his voice quiet and sincere. "There's something different about you."

And before I knew what was happening, both of his hands were interlaced with my own, the roughness of his fingers mingling with the smoothness of mine. His simple touch was like electricity - jolting, surprising and wonderful all at once.

He leaned down, his faces only inches from my own. I could feel his breath tickling my lips, and in that moment, I wanted to feel them against my own more than anything.

His lips caught mine just as another gust of wind blew past us, sending my hair flying about my head once more. The moment was perfect in its own imperfect way - there were no fireworks, no immediate feelings of love, but just knowing that his lips were against mine was more incredible than I could ever describe.

I was reminded strongly of my parents' fairytale beginning as I kissed him, about how ruined it had become. But I dismissed all thoughts of them as his hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer to him, my arms slinking around his neck. This was better than a fairytale. This was _real_.


	14. Chapter 14

_I kissed Nathan._

My eyes remained closed as the mid-afternoon sunlight streamed in through my open window. I was almost certain that last night had been a dream. And I was not willing to wake up and let it end.

_It was real. It wasn't a dream. Open your eyes, Ella._

It was almost as if someone was there, whispering these words into my ear. But I knew I was alone - if last night _had_ been real, then Nathan and I had gone our separate ways just as the sun began to peek through the clouds.

I allowed my eyes to open slowly - cautiously, almost. My stomach was twisting itself in tight, unpleasant knots. I was scared. Scared that last night hadn't been real. And even more scared that it _had_ been real.

_You're not chickening out of this one, James. It's too much of a good thing to give up._

"I'm not giving it up," I whispered to myself, into the softness of my pillow. "I'm not." And I meant it.

The previous night had been wonderful - mind-blowing, actually. That first kiss had left me breathless, exhilarated, and ridiculously content. The feeling of his lips pressed against my own had felt so right, so absolutely _fantastic_. I brought my fingers to my lips momentarily, remembering exactly how that kiss had felt, as well as the others that had been shared throughout the night.

_He smiled down at me, his eyes twinkling softly in the darkness that surrounded us. He placed his hand delicately on my face, gently tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear._

"You're beautiful," he whispered, making my cheeks flush. "You really are."

"Nathan..."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, staring me straight in the eye. "You don't have to say anything at all."

I smiled, bringing my lips crashing against his once more. I was glad that I didn't have to say anything. Somehow, not talking seemed so much better.

I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as the memory faded from my mind. This was positively _insane_. I, Haley James, love cynic extraordinaire, was grinning like an idiot because of a kiss. A rather good kiss, mind you, but a _kiss_ nonetheless.

And the crazy thing about this whole situation was that I was happy. I wasn't regretting what I'd done. I wasn't wishing it had never happened. No, things were different now. Now I was happy, thrilled, almost, that I had kissed Nathan. _Wow_.

There was a soft knock at my door, so unexpected and surprising that I jumped slightly in my place on my bed. Shaking my head slightly, I smoothed my hair a bit and said, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, taking an eternity to reveal who was behind it. Finally, a very familiar head of dark brown hair poked through the door. He was smiling, his eyes bright and shining.

"Hey," Nathan said, taking a step inside of my room. "Mind if I come in?"

"Of course not," I said, scooting back a bit to allow him some room to sit down. I noticed that he was holding two frappucinnos in his hands, and I felt myself licking my lips in anticipation of tasting the smooth drink.

"Brought you something to wake you up a bit," he said, handing me one of the cups in his hand.

"Thanks," I replied, taking a long, enjoyable sip. "You got caramel. My favorite."

"Can't go wrong with caramel," he said, cracking a small smile. He took a sip of his drink as he began fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"So," I said, unsure of what to say to him. Last night had been wonderful, and had felt so _right_. I hadn't had any trouble talking with him then, so I didn't understand why I was having such a problem now.

"So," he repeated, sighing. A thick, awkward silence fell over us, unsettling my stomach and making me feel _very_ uncomfortable.

"All right," I said, setting my drink on my bedside table. "Let's skip the awkward silences, okay? We don't have a reason to be this way around each other, do we?"

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "We don't."

"Good," I said. "Then I think we should just talk about last night, which is clearly what we want to do, instead of dancing around the subject."

He appeared surprised by my statement, but before long a smile was rapidly spreading across his lips. "You know," he began, a laugh escaping his throat, "that's why I like you, Hayley. You're direct. Forward."

"Honestly?" I asked, raising my eyebrows slightly. "A lot of guys thought I was too pushy for their liking. Which I didn't mind much, really, since I had no desire to be with them anyway."

"I don't think you're pushy," he said. "You just know what you want, and you're not afraid to get it. I really like that about you."

I smiled, a slight blush rising in my cheeks. "Thanks."

"So," he said again, although this time I knew there would be no awkward silences. "Last night."

"Last night," I repeated, memories flashing quickly through my mind. The get together, the lake, the kiss. It had all been wonderful. "Well, I enjoyed myself. Very much, actually."

He chuckled. "I did, too."

"So where does this leave us?" I asked him, staring into his deep, crystalline eyes.

"I don't know," he said after a few moments' silence. "I…well, I mean to say that..."

I smiled, watching as he spluttered nervously, searching for the right words to say.

"Okay," he said, running a hand through his hair as he sighed exasperatedly. "I'm rubbish at expressing how I feel. All I know is that...well, I fancy you, and I want to be with you."

My heart began beating faster as his words penetrated my ears. So last night had meant something to him, too. It wasn't just a few kisses shared with some girl to him...it had actually made an impact on him. I felt my smile growing wider, my heart fluttering like mad in my chest.

"I want to be with you, too," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He inched closer to me on the bed, his hands finding mine. His fingers laced with my own, sending a wave of shivers racing throughout my body. I squeezed his hand gently, my stomach flipping as he smiled down at me, his eyes bright and sparkling.

I leaned in, closing the space between us. I brought my lips to his softly, the butterflies in my stomach swarming around rapidly as he kissed me back. This, I realized, was pure bliss.

"It needs to not rain here so much," I said to Nathan as we drove through the streets, rain falling rapidly from the darkened sky. It pounded against the windshield, the wipers darting back and forth in a frenzied fashion.

"You get used to it," he replied, squinting to see through the thick sheets of rain.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "That's the problem. I love rain. It's just another reason why I'm falling more in love with this place every day."

He smiled, absently fiddling with the volume of the stereo. "You could always stay here," he suggested, a hint of hope evident in his voice.

"NYU is calling me," I said with a light laugh. "It's been my dream for as long as I can remember."

"I know," he said quietly. "That's why I want to make the most of this while you're here."

My stomach flipped uneasily at his words. I had been forcing myself to think of anything but the fact that I was leaving in less than a month. Nathan and I had only been together for a few weeks, and already I was starting to grow attached to him. No, attached wasn't the right word. I didn't get attached to anyone. I was just growing rather fond of him. I was dreading the end of August and everything it meant. Although I wanted to go to college and experience the freedom it brought, I was scared of being on my own. It terrified me, actually.

And even though I wouldn't admit it, I was scared of leaving Nathan. Because I knew that once I left, that would be it. We wouldn't be able to make a relationship work if he was in North Carolina and I was in New York. The second I boarded my flight back to New York, my summer and everything it had included - even Nathan - would end.

That's why I was just trying to have fun. I didn't want this relationship to be serious and committed. A summer fling, that's all it was. A fun, carefree relationship. That's what I would remember it as when I looked back on it. A summer romance. That's all.

"Jake's told me that he's taking Peyton to a play later on," Nathan said as he weaved in and out of traffic. "Think she'll like that?"

I scoffed. "God no. I don't think she has the attention span for something like that."

"Maybe they'll just skip the play and snog behind the theatre instead," he said thoughtfully.

I laughed. "Probably. Those two are making me sick with their lovey dovey wishy washy crap."

"It is rather disturbing," he agreed. "But I must admit that I'm glad to see Jake so serious about something."

"I guess so," I said, shrugging. "But I think they got too serious too fast."

"Do you?" he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. "I just think they've fallen in love."

I rolled my eyes. "Love," I said with a dry laugh, "is completely overrated."

He looked at me then, an unreadable expression on his face. "You think so?"

"Well, yeah," I replied. "I mean, I've never been in love, but...I'm not really sure if I want to be, either."

"Oh," he said, his face falling a bit. "_Oh._"

I sighed. "Nathan..."

"No," he said, offering me a half-smile. "No, I understand what you mean. Love is a frightening prospect."

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding my head. "It really is."

"And why worry about it? I mean, we're young. What's the rush?"

"Exactly!" I said, excited that someone finally understood me. "There's no point in jumping into something you're not ready for."

He looked at me, a small smile on his face. "That's why I'm glad we're having fun, Hayley. None of that love stuff tying us down."

"I'm glad, too," I said, returning his smile and feeling at ease. "Really glad."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Hayley, come out here!" Nathan yelled as another crack of thunder resonated throughout the damp afternoon. Rain was falling in fast, heavy torrents, and lighting was flashing threateningly across the darkened sky. I stared at him, watching as he stood in the midst of it all, large droplets of water falling from his disheveled hair.

"But it's raining like mad!" I yelled from the passenger seat in Nathan's Mercedes. We had driven to the lake we had gone to a few weeks after I had first arrived in Tree Hill. It had started raining halfway there, but instead of turning back, Nathan had kept driving.

"Come on!" he said through his laughter. "Hayley, this is..." He paused, throwing his hands in the air. "It's invigorating!"

"I'll tell you what's invigorating," I shouted back. "Staying in here, where it's warm and dry."

He started running towards the car before I could react. He reached the door before I could lock it, and within seconds I felt his damp hand close around mine, pulling me from the warmth of the car and into the chilly July afternoon.

"Nathan! Scott!" I screamed, instantly becoming drenched by the heavy downpour.

"Oh, using my full name," he said, still laughing. "You must be angry."

"I'm going to kill you," I said through clenched teeth as I pushed my soaking wet hair away from my face. Nathan, seemingly unfazed by my threat, remained standing mere inches in front of me, a sly smile creeping across his lips.

I reached for him, and I managed to clasp my hand around his jacket. He, however, managed to pull himself out of it and ran blindly toward the lake, the echo of his laughter ringing in my ears.

"Nathan!" I shouted in frustration, chasing after him with as much speed as I could muster. "This is not funny!"

I kept running, my eyes focused on him, watching as he neared the choppy waters of the lake. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, and an unexplainable feeling of dread was forming within my stomach. Something about the water unsettled me, with its crashing waves and the sharp bolts of lightning that seemed to strike against it. He was still heading toward the water, getting closer by the second, my heart beating more quickly than it ever had in my life.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. It was almost as if he had never been there at all. Like he had been a figment of my imagination, something I had dreamed up in my mind.

"Nathan!" I yelled, panic rising steadily within me. I was still running to where I had seen him disappear mere moments before, but I knew that I would never make it in time. He was already gone.

"Nate! Nathan!" My throat was hoarse from screaming, and the chill that accompanied the blustering afternoon. There was no response. And I realized, in that single, panic-stricken moment, just how much he truly meant to me.

I made it over the small, sloping hill that gave way to the lakeshore, seeing nothing but the water crashing against the rocks that lined it. There was no sign of him anywhere - even his laughter had died, vanishing along with him into the raging water.

"Nathan!" I shouted a final time, tears stinging my eyes. This couldn't be happening. But yet, somehow, it was.

Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, a very familiar hand grabbed mine and pulled me down, and all I was aware of was the rain pelting against my face, soothing me, calming me. Somehow I felt at ease again, all traces of panic and unrest gone from me.

"Nate," I whispered, and I hear him laugh again, loud and highly amused. I was shaking, maybe from the cold, maybe from anger - or maybe from both. I couldn't tell. All I knew was that he was there beside me, his hand clasped tightly in my own, breathing steadily.

"Hayley," he said, his laughter once again echoing in my ears, "did you really think something had happened to me?"

I did not answer him. Instead I sat there, shaking, replaying everything over in my mind. I had never been more scared in my life. And he had done that to me - terrified me to the point of near hysteria.

"You," I said, my voice unsteady, "are the world's biggest asshole."

He looked at me, a confused expression plastered across his face. "Hayley..."

"No," I interrupted, my anger rising rapidly. "You scared the shit out of me. I thought that I had lost you, Nathan." As soon as the words left my lips, I wished I wouldn't have said them. It made me sound weak, desperate even.

"It was only a joke," he said defensively. "Honestly, that's all it was meant to be. I never intended to scare you like that."

"Well, you did," I said, hiding my face from his view. I didn't want him to see the tears that had formed in my eyes. "I love jokes, and even pranks, but...god, Nathan, that was just too far. I thought you had drowned or something."

His arm wrapped around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. "I'm sorry," he said, pushing my sopping wet hair away from my face. "I really am."

I breathed in deeply, calming myself down considerably. It had only been a joke. A stupid, harmless joke. I leaned my head against him, and we sat there in the pouring rain, staring out at the lake that rested only a few feet in front of us.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and I nodded, letting him know that he was forgiven. I turned, pressing my forehead against his, allowing myself to feel all of the emotions I had for him, even the ones I knew I would never admit to having. I kissed him fiercely, passionately, letting those emotions shine through, knowing that I would never allow myself to do that again.

* * *

"So how're things with Jake?" I asked Peyton as we sipped tea with my Aunt Karen later the next afternoon.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. Aunt Karen looked at her, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Well, we're fine. Great, actually."

"Nathan mentioned something about the two of you going to a play," I said, taking a bite of my biscuit. "How was that?"

"We didn't make it to the play," she replied, her face now a dark shade of red. "Er...the rain made traffic absolutely dreadful."

"What did you two do instead?" Aunt Karen questioned her, a mischievous glint sparkling in her deep, chocolate eyes.

"Oh, nothing much, Mum," she said, taking a rather nervous sip from her cup of tea. "Just went for a bite to eat, and then he brought me home."

I snorted into my tea, earning me a panicked look from Peyton and a knowing smile from Aunt Karen. The truth was that she and Jake had gone back to his flat and made-out for hours. I would never reveal that tidbit of information to her mother; I just loved seeing her squirm.

"Well," Aunt Karen said, focusing her attention on me. "How was your evening with Nathan, dear?"

I thought back to the previous night, back to the storm, back to the frenzied kisses we had shared underneath the raining sky. A shiver raced down my spine as I remembered how his hands had felt on my skin, rough and smooth all at once, jolting, _electrifying_. Things would have gone much farther if I hadn't stopped him, reminding him of the time and his promise to be back in Tree Hill before late.

"It was nice," I said, smiling. "Really nice."

"That's lovely, Hayley," Aunt Karen said with a kind smile. "Nathan seems to be a very charming young man."

"He's great," I said without thinking, cringing as Peyton smirked at me.

"Pity it's only a summer romance," Peyton said, staring at me pointedly.

"Surely you're going to continue seeing each other after you return to New York?" Aunt Karen said, surprise evident in her voice.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. It would never work out."

She looked at me, her eyes shining with something unreadable. "Anything is possible, Hayley. All you have to do is want it to happen."

I took a sip of my tea, desperately wishing that this conversation wasn't happening. I didn't want to think about leaving, or about the future I knew I wouldn't have with Nathan. I didn't want to think about what was to come. All I wanted to think about was now.

* * *

"I've got a surprise for you," Peyton said to me, smiling devilishly as she stood in my doorway, arms folded across her chest.

"Really? What kind of surprise?" I asked her as I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail.

"I can't tell you," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "It'll ruin the entire thing."

"I'm not entirely sure I want to be surprised by you," I said uneasily. "Knowing you, you'll do something stupid."

"It's not stupid," she insisted. "Believe me. You'll love it."

"Okay," I said, turning to face her. "When do I get this surprise, then?"

"Tonight," she said vaguely, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

I stared at her, frowning. "_When_ tonight?"

"Stop being so bloody impatient," she said. "You'll see later tonight."

"It doesn't have anything to do with Nathan, does it?" I asked her, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't going to do anything stupid involving him.

She shook her head. "No."

"I don't like these one-word answers," I said, biting my lip nervously. "You're making me nervous."

"No need to worry, Hayley," she assured me. "I promise that you'll love it."

I looked at her skeptically, raising my eyebrows. Somehow, I couldn't quite believe her.

* * *

"Hayley!" Peyton called from downstairs, her voice reverberating off of the hallway walls. "Nathan's here!"

"I thought you said he didn't have anything to do with this surprise of yours!" I called back, poking my head out of my bedroom door.

"He doesn't!" she assured me once again, and I could hear the sound of feet slapping against the stairs, indicating that Nathan was making his way to my room.

"Hey," he greeted me as he materialized from behind the wall blocking the staircase. He offered me a large grin, and I felt my heart fluttering wildly in my chest.

"Hi," I said, somewhat cautiously. "Do you have any idea what this surprise of Peyton's is all about?"

He looked at me questioningly, scrunching his face up into an expression of confusion. "No," he replied, sounding sincere.

"Are you sure? Because...well, you just showed up out of nowhere, and there's this surprise supposedly going to happen tonight, and..."

"I swear I don't know anything about it," he cut in, and I believed him.

"Okay," I said, feeling his arms wrap around me and pull me into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, almost afraid to let him go.

He pulled away from me slightly, his eyes staring straight into mine. Once again I became dizzy as I stared into those seemingly endless blue eyes, my stomach doing somersaults. He brought his lips to mine gently, giving me a simple, sweet kiss.

Somewhere behind me, I heard a cough - a very familiar cough. I immediately tensed up, opening my eyes and pulling away from Nathan sharply. My stomach dropped and flipped at the same time, happiness and dread coursing through me all at once. There was my surprise.

Standing in the doorway of my bedroom, arms folded across her chest, was Brooke, wearing an expression that clearly said, "I told you so."


	16. Chapter 16

**Hayley's P.O.V**

_Oh, damn. Damn it all to hell._

There she stood, her self-satisfied expression resting smugly on her face, her arms folded across her chest. Under normal circumstances, I would've been happy, _ecstatic_ even, to see her. But much to my displeasure, this was _not_ a normal situation.

Nathan remained quite still as Brooke abandoned her place in the doorway and began walking toward us. His hands had not left mine, but I suddenly wished he'd let go of me - this simple sign of affection was giving more ammo to Brooke that she definitely did not need. She'd seen enough already. I knew, as she opened her mouth to speak, that she'd never let me live this down.

"Well?" she said expectantly, her smirk slowly sliding off of her lips.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted, scrunching my face up in confusion.

"Excuse me for wanting to see my best friend," she said with a dramatic sigh and matching eye roll. "It _has_ been over a month since we've seen each other, you know. Or perhaps you've forgotten...I can see that you've been rather, er..._busy_...while you've been here."

I glared at her, feeling Nathan's hands squeeze mine gently, somehow soothing my nerves. "Brooke," I said, trying to keep my voice level and calm, "this is Nathan."

"Hi, Nathan," Brooke said brightly, bounding over to us and shaking his free hand. "I wish I could say that Hayley's told me all about you, but unfortunately, she hasn't."

Nathan looked at me sharply, a confused expression on his face. He looked hurt, almost.

"I just haven't gotten around to telling her about you yet," I defended, shooting a death glare in Brooke's direction. "I haven't really talked to her lately, either."

Nathan did not reply; instead, he nodded curtly, inducing a sinking feeling in my stomach. _Great. Now he's pissed at me._

Brooke bit her lip, looking at me apologetically. I ignored her. "What I meant to say was that Hayley hasn't really told me much of anything about her stay here," she said, scrambling for something decent to say. "Our last real conversation was about a month ago, when we were watching your interview on TV and we saw you with your girlfriend."

"Brooke!" I exclaimed, feeling my face flush with a combination of embarrassment and anger. "Honestly, can you just shut up for _one_ minute?"

Nathan cocked his head to the side, studying me as if he were seeing me for the first time. "You saw me with Kate at the interview?" he asked, seemingly surprised.

I groaned. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"_Oh,_" he replied, and I felt my stomach give another unpleasant lurch.

"Brooke," I said through clenched teeth, "will you _please_ keep your mouth closed? Just for a few more minutes? _Please?_"

"Sorry," she said quickly, flashing Nathan an apologetic smile. I continued glaring at her, wanting nothing more than to strangle the life out of her.

"Well," Nathan began, letting go of my hands and standing from his place on my bed, "I think I should go."

"Yeah," I said, my stomach still uneasy.

"I'll call you," he said as he turned to walk out of the door. "Nice meeting you, Brooke." He shook her hand once more and smiled at her, finally disappearing into the hallway.

"You," I said as soon as he was out of earshot, "are a complete bitch."

"Hayley!" she said defensively, her brown hair falling out of its loose bun atop her head. "I didn't mean to cause any problems between you two!"

"What do you think you're doing, showing up here out of nowhere and then proceeding to make my..._boyfriend_...angry with me?" I raged, my face burning.

She smirked for a split second before noticing the look of pure venom on my face. "Hayley," she said, more calmly this time, "I really am sorry. You know me...sometimes I just say things without really thinking them through. I'll apologize to Nathan personally the next time I see him."

"_If_ you see him again," I muttered, rolling my eyes at her.

"Oh, come on! He's not mad at you. I think he was just surprised that you hadn't told me about him. Which, I must say, I'm rather miffed about as well." She looked at me pointedly, her dark eyes boring into my own.

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd never let me live it down," I said, sighing. "This was exactly what you wanted to happen, and it did. And sometimes I wish it hadn't."

Her expression softened at my words. "You don't wish that," she said matter-of-factly. "You're happy. I can see it in your eyes."

"I'm no happier than I was before I left home," I argued, even though I knew she wouldn't believe me. Hell, I didn't even believe myself.

"You are," she persisted. "Before, you always had this...I don't know, sort of _dead_ look in your eyes. No, not dead...more like emotionless, kind of. The only things I ever saw floating around in them were anger and resentment. Which," she paused, looking closely into my eyes, "seem to have diminished significantly."

"I'm still angry. Just not as fiercely as I was before."

"And that's good," she said, smiling. "You couldn't stay mad at your dad forever, Hayley."

"Who said I wasn't mad at him anymore?" I said incredulously.

"I know you are. Just not as fiercely as you were before." She smirked. I scoffed.

I stared at her for a few moments, really realizing that she was there, standing only feet in front of me. My best friend was here, the one person I'd missed more than anyone.

"I'm glad you're here," I said, offering her a small smile. She returned it, and suddenly, everything just seemed like it was okay, even if it wasn't. In that moment, all that mattered to me was that she was there.

* * *

The sun slipped slowly out of the sky, its remaining light bathing the streets of Tree Hill in spilled gold. I stood in my cousin's home, staring out of her front window, admiring the simplistic beauty of a late July sunset.

I didn't have many moments to myself these days. I was always with someone, whether it was Nathan, Brooke, Peyton or Jake, I was always doing something, even if it meant staying home and watching movies. I loved spending time with everyone, but sometimes I missed these moments where it was just me under a bright, brilliant sky.

I smiled as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, taking its light and warmth with it. The streetlights buzzed on along the street, casting a faded white glow over the homes that lined it. Darkness had officially fallen, which meant that it was time for me to get ready for the night that stretched ahead of me.

Peyton, forever the partier, had planned a "small get-together" with our friends in order for everyone to meet Brooke. Originally, the only people attending had been Peyton and Jake, Rachel and Lucas, and Nathan, Brooke and I. Now, according to Peyton, a few of Lucas's friends would be joining us.

I hadn't seen Nathan since the night he'd left after meeting Brooke, which left me feeling a bit empty. No, not empty. Hayley James didn't feel _empty_ when she didn't see a guy. It was simply...unheard of.

"Hey loser," Brooke said as she entered the sitting room, wearing a Bohemian skirt with a loose-fitting brown top. Dangling from her ears were brown, sparkling earrings that my mother had given to her for her birthday. I smiled. This was the Brooke I had missed while being away.

"Hey," I greeted her, turning away from the window. "Ready for tonight?"

"Yep," she replied. She looked me over, shaking her head. "I can clearly see you're not."

"I didn't feel like getting ready just yet," I said, shrugging. "I was watching the sunset."

"The sunset," she repeated, looking at me skeptically. "You certainly are a different girl, Hayley."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked rather sharply.

"I don't mean it in a bad way," she assured me. "I just mean that...well, you're different. In a good way."

"Different how?" I pressed, wanting to know exactly what she meant.

"I don't know, exactly. You just don't seem as...well, as negative as you were before."

"Thanks...I think," I replied, wrinkling my brow in confusion.

"It's a good thing. Trust me." She smiled, turning to walk out of the room. "You should get dressed. Nathan and the others will be here soon."

"Yeah," I said, walking past her to get to the staircase. I started climbing the steps, but stopped midway up. "Brooke?"

"Yeah?" she said, facing me.

"Thanks." I didn't have to tell her why or explain anything. Her smile let me know that she already knew.

* * *

"Hi," I greeted Jake as I pulled the front door open. "Peyton's just upstairs."

"Okay," he replied, offering me a small smile. "Where's this friend of yours?"

"I don't want you getting any ideas," I said sternly, shooting him a reproachful glare. "You're with Peyton, and if you break her heart, I'll break your face."

He laughed, walking over to me and wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders. "You never cease to amuse me, Hayley," he said through his chuckles.

"Who said I was joking?" I shot back, fixing him with an icy stare.

"Come off it," he said, squeezing my shoulders slightly. "You know I wouldn't hurt Peyton. Not intentionally, at least."

"You'd better not." I wriggled out of his grasp and headed for the staircase, craning my neck to see the top landing. "Peyton! Brooke!"

"Is Jake here?" Peyton called back, sounding slightly panicked.

"Yeah," I answered her. "If you're not ready yet, send Brooke down so I can begin the introductions."

Moments later, Brooke materialized on the staircase, her long hair swinging behind her. "Hey," she said, smiling lazily.

As soon as she'd stepped into view, I seized her by the arm and pulled her over to Jake. "Jake, this is my best friend, Brooke Davis. Brooke, this is Peyton's boyfriend, Jake Jagielski."

"Hi," Brooke said brightly as she shook his hand.

"Are Lucas and Rachel meeting us at the restaurant?" I asked Jake.

"Yeah," he replied, glancing at his watch. "Nathan's coming here, right?"

I nodded. "He should be here..." There was a knock at the door. I smiled. "...any minute."

I bounded over to the door, my hair bouncing around my shoulders. I ran my hand over it, cringing as I felt all of the stray strands grazing my fingertips. I pulled open the door once again, my scowl instantly turning into a smile as Nathan came into focus.

"Hi," he said, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Hi," I said, almost breathlessly.

He smiled and said softly, "I missed you."

I felt myself blush, realizing that Brooke and Jake were only mere feet away from me. "I can only imagine how dull your days must have been without me around," I replied, cracking a smile. "And you can come in if you want."

He smiled in return and walked into the house, giving Brooke and Jake a small wave. "Hey guys," he greeted them.

"Hey mate," Jake said, clapping him on the back. "Where've you been? Out with your other girlfriend?"

I whacked him hard on the arm, smirking as he winced. "Bloody hell, Hayley," he whined. "You're certainly stronger than you look."

"Say another stupid thing and I'll be even stronger," I said threateningly. Nathan and Brooke laughed quietly, shooting each other amused glances.

"I'm ready!" Peyton called from the top of the staircase, her feet clacking against the steps as she descended them. Jake met her halfway and kissed her lightly, whispering his hello.

"If you two are finished, we should probably leave," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Peyton said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I don't complain when you kiss Nathan in front of me."

"That's because I don't," I shot back, pulling the front door open once again.

"I think we should," Nathan suggested, attempting to wrap his arm around my waist. "You know, to give them something to complain about."

"Nice try," I said, grabbing his arm and removing it from my waist. I heard Brooke laughing behind me, and I felt my face heat in slight embarrassment. I took a few steps away from Nathan, careful not to have too much physical interaction with him.

I could already tell that it was going to be a _very_ long night.

* * *

**Authors Note******

Sorry if the ending doesn't make sense I ran out of ideas so I cut it short


	17. Chapter 17

**Hayley's P.O.V**

Rain was falling in thick, heavy sheets, each droplet shining against the purple sky like small, shimmering diamonds. Purples and blacks and even hints of pink were splashed across the late afternoon sky, resembling a hastily painted watercolor I remembered completing during one of my high school art classes. I raised my head to the sky above me, my eyes squinted against the onslaught of rain. Despite my distorted vision, I still smiled at the colors painted onto the sky's canvas, reminding me of everything I'd left behind and everything I still had to face.

I wished, as I stood amidst the rain, small drops dripping from my tangled hair, that I could somehow stay in that position for all eternity. I wished that I would never have to worry about anything besides the rain, nothing besides the droplets rolling off of my skin like small beads of sweat, nothing besides the unknown feeling that seared through my veins, setting my body on fire and turning me into a solid chunk of ice all at once.

I stood there, immobile, immune to all of the world, my eyes half-open and my lips curved in a tiny smile of bliss. Nothing could touch me there; no worries weighed on my mind, no thoughts or doubts consumed me, and no smiles or whispered mutterings of affection plagued me. I didn't have to second-guess myself as I stood there; everything, somehow, made sense.

I knew people were staring; I could feel their eyes on me, could feel the looks of mingled surprise and alarm I knew were plastered onto their faces. I could almost hear the thoughts that raced through their minds, the questions that remained unspoken. I knew what they were thinking - why was I standing outside in the middle of a torrential downpour, in front of my father's house no less? The answer may not have been very apparent to onlooking passersby, but I knew why I was there, why I was allowing myself to become drenched in the seemingly never-ending rain, why I was standing on my father's doorstep, a thousand words waiting patiently on the tip of my tongue.

I was there because I was finally ready to let go of him, all of him - his lies, his broken promises, his detached indifference. I was there because I was finally letting go of the past I had clung onto with grasping hands, the past I no longer wanted to keep reliving.

Coming to this realization hadn't been easy or simple, but I had expected that. Everything I encountered came with certain complications, but then again, that was life. Nothing was ever simple. My mother had told me once that nothing in the world worth having comes easy, and only then, as I stood on my father's doorstep, did I fully appreciate and understand the meaning of those words.

In between spending time with Brooke, Peyton and Nathan, and making myself sick with anxiousness over the looming prospect of college, I had few quiet moments to myself to think properly. But in those scattered moments, I thought deeply about my father and the relationship I shared with him, or lack thereof. And I realized, during one of those peaceful, tranquil moments, that this wasn't how I was supposed to live. I wasn't supposed to be afraid of my father, or of letting him go. Because after everything he had put me through, it was time for me to let go of the one thing I had been so terrified of letting slip through my fingers. It was time for me to let go of the one man I had always thought was invincible, the man I had been so sure would never hurt me.

Well I was wrong.

I walked up to my father's front door and brought my hand up slowly to the door, breathing in deeply then knocked quickly three times. I heard a scuttling of feet coming closer to the door, and I could feel my stomach twisting itself in knots, anxiety threatening to overtake me. I contemplated leaving just as the tall, oak door opened, revealing a smiling Olivia clad in a blindingly white sweater and tight-fitting jeans.

Her smile faltered a bit as her eyes fell upon me, her painted pink lips forming a small circle of surprise. For a moment she stood there, staring at me, her mousy brown hair falling in sheets around her face. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she smiled once again and said, "Oh, Hayley."

"Hello," I said, my voice cold and distant. She stood aside and beckoned me in, and we both walked into the sitting room, where my father sat reading some sort of thick document.

He looked up as the sound of Olivia's heels clacking against the floor reached his ears, his eyes brushing past her and finally landing on me. His lips were pursed together tightly, and his brow was furrowed together in a frown. He made no attempt to get up or to even acknowledge my presence by saying hello; he merely sat there, his eyes seemingly staring straight past me.

"Hayley," he said flatly, his voice devoid of all emotion.

"Dad," I said in the same emotionless tone, my eyes fixed on him in a cold, harsh stare.

"What brings you here?" he asked, trying to sound disinterested, but I could hear the hint of curiosity lingering in his voice.

"I wanted to talk to you," I said, forcing myself to remain as confident as possible. "I'm leaving soon, and I think I should say what needs to be said before I go."

"Very well," he said, settling back into his chair. "Olivia, if you'll excuse us, please."

Olivia nodded and disappeared into the hallway, leaving my father and I completely alone in his oversized sitting room filled with too much furniture. I sat down across from him in a stiff, black armchair, thinking of the right words to say.

"Hayley," he said a few moments later, breaking the heavy, almost tangible silence that had hung over us. "I want to apologize for the way I acted when I found you and Nathan together. I realize that I overreacted; it was wrong of me to jump to such hasty conclusions."

"Took you long enough," I replied, scoffing. "I can't believe you pretended like I didn't exist for almost an entire month because of something as trivial as that."

"You can't imagine what runs through a parent's mind when they see something like that," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I was terrified for you, Hayley. I was only looking out for your own well-being."

"I'm eighteen, Dad," I pointed out, my voice laced with exasperation. "I can take care of myself. And even though I'm your daughter, and you have every right to worry about me, I'm capable of making my own decisions. You have to understand that."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I do understand that," he replied, sighing heavily.

"This isn't even what I came here to discuss," I said suddenly, shaking my head. "I didn't come here to hear your apologies or listen to your excuses. I'm tired of doing that, Dad."

He stared at me, unblinking, not daring to say a word. I looked at him for a moment, seeing myself in his eyes, and continued on.

"I meant what I said that day, Dad," I said. "In the years since you left, you've been the world's worst father. Contacting me only occasionally, sending me birthday cards filled with money but no sentiment...do you know how that made me feel? Knowing that my father would rather send me ridiculous amounts of money than actually make an effort to see me or contact me? Knowing that my father would rather marry a woman _fifteen years_ his junior than stay with a woman who loved him so much it nearly killed her?"

"Hayley," he said warningly, but I ignored him, determined to say what had needed to be said for over two years.

"You have no idea what Mom and I have gone through since you left," I raged, now standing on my feet, although I didn't remember getting up. "She doesn't sleep, she barely eats, and she still keeps that god-forsaken wedding ring you gave her, thinking that _maybe_ you'll come back someday! That maybe someday you'll come back to the family you abandoned without so much as a goodbye!"

Tears of fury were stinging my eyes, trying desperately to escape and fall onto my flushed cheeks. However, I was determined to remain strong; I wouldn't cry in front of him, wouldn't let him see how horribly he'd hurt me since he'd left.

"Hayley, your mother understands why I left, even if you do not," he said, his voice low and tired. "I want you to understand that it was never my intention to hurt you the way I did. I didn't want to leave you behind, but I knew that taking you with me back to North Carolina would have been unfair to you and your mother."

"I didn't want to go with you!" I shouted, feeling my legs shaking dangerously beneath me. "I wanted you to stay!"

"I couldn't stay," he said simply, his eyes locking onto mine. I could see sadness lingering within their icy blue depths, somehow pleading with me to understand. But I wouldn't. I couldn't understand anymore, not after all the years of doubt and uncertainty. Things had changed between my father and I, a seemingly endless rift forging itself between us. And I realized, as I stood there in his sitting room, that the rift would never repair itself.

"You could have," I said heatedly, although I was no longer shouting. "Leaving Mom was one thing, but moving to another state was ridiculous. There was no reason for you to leave."

"There was no reason for me to stay!" he yelled, although he appeared more shameful than angry after the words left his lips.

I stared at him, hardly believing that the man sitting mere feet in front of me was actually my father. "No reason for you to stay?" I repeated shrilly, my heart hammering loudly in my chest.

He remained silent, perhaps believing that saying nothing at all was better than telling me the truth.

"Well," I began, emitting a dry laugh in spite of myself. "Thank you, Dad."

He looked at me as though I had gone mad; his eyes were narrowed and his brow was furrowed closely together, as though he were deep in thought.

"Thank you for finally telling me the truth," I clarified after his expression remained dumbfounded. "I think for a long time I wanted to believe that you actually did care, but now I know that you don't. So thank you for sparing me another two years of constant doubt and misery."

"Hayley..."

"I don't want to speak to you," I said briskly, kicking the chair I had previously occupied into the wall. "I don't want to hear anything that you've got to say."

He stood this time, his eyes red and glassy. He reached out to me, but I shrugged him off; his touch was like acid on my skin.

"Hayley, you need to understand..."

"I don't need to understand anything!" I shouted, the tears I had been trying so desperately to fight against now spilling over onto my burning cheeks. "I understand all I need to know! You don't care about me, you never did! It was always about you, your life, your needs! It's never once been about me! You've been so absorbed in this fairytale life that you've created for yourself that you've failed to notice your own daughter!"

"That's not true!" he raged, slamming his steaming mug of tea onto the ground. "I've seen how miserable you are, Hayley! I know what I've done has hurt you! I just never knew how to address it!"

"You should have figured out a way!" I screamed, my eyes momentarily catching a glimpse of white as Olivia entered the room, shaking. "All you had to do was talk to me, Dad!"

"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly that I barely heard it. Breathing heavily, he stared at me, awaiting my response. I looked into his face, a face that had once so resembled my own, but now I barely recognized it; he was no longer the man I had once thought invincible, no longer the man I had been sure would never hurt me. Now a different man stood before me, a man I neither knew nor cared to know. This was it; it was the end. And shaking horribly, my resolve completely shattered, I prepared myself for what I was about to do.

"It's too late for your apologies," I said softly, the depths of my pain laced behind the calmness of my voice. "It's too late for anything."

I walked past him, dropping my gaze from his penetrating stare. My hand grasped the doorknob tightly, the metal cool beneath my fingers. And not daring to look back, I turned the handle and walked out of the door.

* * *

I had not planned on knocking on Nathan's door after I left my father's house. But there I stood, soaking wet from the pouring rain, my face red and stained with tears that had not yet stopped falling. Loud, choked sobs were still racking my body, causing me to shake and sway dangerously on my feet.

Crying was not something I did often. In fact, I never cried. But there I was, standing at my boyfriend's front door, in hysterics over something I had known was coming in the first place. The last person I wanted to see me cry was Nathan, but something in me knew that he was the only person I wanted to see at all. So I knocked quietly on his door, taking a slight step back as I heard his feet approaching.

There was a slight pause in which I was unsure if he was going to let me in, but then the door opened and revealed him standing there, dressed in flannel pajama pants and an old T-shirt. His hair was messy and disheveled, and the slightly cloudy expression on his face made him appear as though he had just woken up.

His expression changed instantly as his gaze fell upon my shaking figure, his eyes growing wide and concerned. He immediately grabbed me and pulled me into the flat, leading me over to one of his couches in the living room and sitting me down. His hands cupped my face gently, his eyes roaming over it to check for signs of injury. Seemingly satisfied, he stood from the couch and disappeared down a hallway, returning a moment later with a large blanket.

He once again sat beside me on the couch, wrapping the thick blanket around me. He seemed hesitant to touch me, as though I might break. I scooted closer to him, resting my damp head on his shoulder and crying hopelessly into his shirt. His arms soon found their way around my cold, shivering body, offering me a comfort I had never known existed before.

I knew that he wanted to know what had happened to make me so upset, but he didn't ask any questions; he seemed to understand that talking was not something that I wanted to do. Instead, he sat there with me, cradling me in his arms, soothing my pain and allowing me a few moments' comfort in his embrace.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hayley's P.O.V**

Orange burned against my eyelids, stirring me awake from the surprisingly peaceful slumber I had enjoyed the night previously. Warmth from the early morning sunrise wrapped itself around me, its soft rays of light spilling into the unfamiliar room I was inhabiting. My legs were tangled in sheets I did not recognize, its material cool against my bare legs.

My eyes swept over the length of the room, realization finally dawning on me as they landed on a head of dark brown hair. I felt the corners of my lips turn upward in a smile as my eyes lingered on Nathan's sleeping face, his mouth slightly open as soft snores filtered out of it. He appeared so peaceful, so relaxed as he slept, and even though I felt a strong urge to talk to him, I refrained from awaking him. Instead I placed my hand to his face, my fingers slowly tracing over the smoothness of his skin.

Somehow this moment was perfect, or as close to perfection as anything could be. Lying there next to Nathan, blankets wrapped loosely around us, the sun slowly creeping its way into the orange and pink sky, nothing but peace and calmness lingering in the air...I sighed quietly, a loose tendril of tangled hair falling over my eyes.

My mind wandered away from the contentment of the early morning and back to the misery of the previous evening. After stumbling into Nathan's flat and spending the better portion of two hours crying hopelessly into his chest, I'd finally opened up to him and told him what had happened between my father and I. I hadn't stopped crying until I'd fallen asleep next to Nathan in his bed, still wrapped securely in his arms. He had offered me a comfort I'd never known existed before, soothing and calming me by merely being there. No one had ever had that effect on me, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

I blinked in haziness, my vision clouding as drowsiness settled over me. Burying my head deeper into my pillow, I allowed my tired eyes to linger once more on Nathan's sleeping face, a small smile making its way onto my lips. A warm, tingling feeling moved slowly throughout my body, something unexpected and unknown, something I had never experienced fully until that moment.

The sun was making its ascent into the blazing sky, burning orange light spilling onto the tangled sheets of the bed. The light reflected onto Nathan's face, and the feeling slowly building in my chest suddenly exploded, like fireworks bursting against a solid black night.

My hand found his and I squeezed our palms together, noticing how my hand seemed to fit perfectly with his. My eyelids were drooping and my breathing was becoming slow, but in my early morning haziness I realized what was happening all around me and within me.

When I would open my eyes later, I would not remember the words that left my lips as the orange light burned around us.

"I love you," I breathed, eyes closing as sleep fell over me.

* * *

"Hayley, get up," a voice whispered into my ear, the electrifying feeling of soft lips on my skin sending shockwaves down my spine. I felt his fingertips traveling down the length of my arm, slowly rising me from slumber. I turned over, my eyes half-opened, a scowl present on my face.

"Too early," I grumbled, scooting away from Nathan's touch.

"I've got Peyton on the phone for you," Nathan said, his voice suddenly lacking its warmth. I groaned and rolled over, hair falling into my eyes. I held my hand out for the phone and held it up to my ear, muttering an obscenity loud enough for Peyton to hear on the other end.

"If you think me waking you up before noon is worthy of muttering obscenities, wait until you hear the news I've got for you," my cousin said angrily, her breathing ragged. I sat up straight at her words, my eyes popping open, alert and filled with anticipation.

"What happened?" I said, biting my bottom lip nervously.

"_The POST _has posted a very interesting article about you, Hayley," she said, her voice becoming thicker with rage. "It seems that someone tipped off the tabloids about your estrangement from your father. They didn't exactly flatter you, to put it lightly."

"_What?_" I shrieked, anger building rapidly within my chest. "How could anyone have done that? The only people in the room were my father and I, I seriously doubt that he'd go running to the tabloids about our argument!"

"Quite agreeable," Peyton replied. "How, then, did the papers get hold of such information?"

"I don't know," I admitted, perplexed. "But why would my father and I arguing be such a hot topic? I doubt that the paper had any idea of who I was before this article."

"Trust me, they knew," Peyton said with an indignant chuckle. "You just hadn't done anything to merit being in the spotlight until now. God, wait until they get hold of the fact that you're dating_ Nathan Scott 'the Tree Hill Raven star'_..."

"Shut up," I growled, my face flushing a light shade of red. "The last thing I need is for the paper to start reporting _that_ information."

"I know. But if I were you, I'd exercise a bit of caution when spending time with Nathan in public," she advised.

I shook my head, covering my face with my free hand. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, a lump rising in my throat. _No. Stop it. This isn't the time for your tears, Hayley._

"So is that why you stayed at Nathan's last night? Because of what happened with your dad?" Peyton asked me, her voice now thick with concern.

"Yeah," I answered her, memories of the night before flashing across my mind. "You know, Nathan was the only one that knew about what happened. And now everyone knows. It's unsettling."

"The paper article seems to be pretty accurate, even though I knew nothing of it until mum got the paper this morning. Maybe you should pick up a copy and see for yourself."

"I'm not sure if I really want to read what's printed in that article," I said shakily, glancing at Nathan, who was busying himself by stuffing clothes into his dresser drawers.

"I understand..." Her voice trailed off, fading into the sounds of banging drawers and ragged breathing.

"I'll be home later," I said at last, tearing my eyes away from a now shirtless Nathan. I ignored the heat rising in my face, directing my full attention to my conversation with Peyton. "We'll have dinner with Brooke, okay?"

"All right, but...Hayley, are you feeling okay?" she asked, concern still heavy in her voice.

"Fine. I just...I don't know. I'm going to take a shower and clear my head. I'll see you later." I hung up the phone before she could reply. I tossed it carelessly onto the rumpled sheets of the bed, burying my head in my hands.

"You know, all of the articles _The POST_ publishes are rubbish," Nathan said consolingly, taking a seat beside me on the bed. "They embellish and fabricate things to make them sound more dramatic and appealing to readers. I wouldn't think too much on it, love."

_Love._ Something stirred within my mind, something that burned orange and left me feeling warm inside. I shook my head and stared at Nathan, smiling softly at him.

"I know that you're right," I admitted, somewhat grudgingly. "But...you're sort of used to this kind of stuff? I mean, the paper must publish articles about you sometimes. This has never happened to me before. It just feels strange, like it shouldn't be happening to me."

"To be completely honest with you, I've never read a word written about me," Nathan said, looking me straight in the eye, and I knew that he was serious. "When it comes to bad journalism and untrue stories about me, I find that ignorance is bliss."

"So you don't think I should read it?" I asked him, surprising myself that I actually cared about his opinion.

"I don't think that you should do anything you don't want to do," he replied, grabbing my hand and squeezing it lightly.

"I don't want to read it, but at the same time I do," I said with a sigh, staring down at our interlocked hands. "The only thing I really want to figure out is who tipped off the paper in the first place."

"You may never find that out," said Nathan, his clear blue eyes shining as they looked into mine.

"But that's ridiculous!" I cried out indignantly, slamming my fist into the mattress. "Don't they understand that people have _private lives?_ Don't they understand that there are things in a person's life that shouldn't be made public for the entire world to see?"

Nathan shook his head sadly. "No, they don't. They make their livings by publicizing very private aspects of well-known peoples' lives. They have no morals. All they care about is writing an article that will appeal to the general public. All they want is recognition, and they don't care how they get it."

"It's sick," I said at last, my anger slowly ebbing away and being replaced by disbelief. "It really is."

"I know," Nathan said, nodding his agreement. "But now that they've put you in the spotlight, you've just got to learn how to deal with it."

"And how do I do that?" I asked him, feeling incredibly helpless and extraordinarily ignorant.

He scooted himself closer to me, his hand still wrapped tightly around mine. "You'll find a way," he said, sounding confident and assured. "Don't worry."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, and I found myself involuntarily resting my head on his chest, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. Inhaling his scent brought a wave of comfort washing over me, and I knew, then, that I had found my way.

* * *

_**New York Princess?**_  
_**Lawyer's Daughter Labeled 'Ungrateful' and 'Spoiled'**_

I sat across from my cousin in her living room, holding the day's edition of _The POST_ in my hands. Beside me, Brooke stared at the headline, her nose scrunched up in disgust. I glanced away from the article and looked at Peyton, her face livid.

"Mum's in a right state over this," Peyton said, jabbing the paper hard with her index finger. "She doesn't believe it word for word, of course, but she does think that you behaved rather rashly."

I felt a pang in my chest - Aunt Karen didn't believe me? "I behaved like any person in my situation would have," I said defensively, straightening my back and tossing my hair over my shoulder.  
"_I_ know you did," Peyton said calmly, her expression temporarily one of understanding. "And mum knows too. She's just upset because she doesn't want there to be any bad feelings between you and your dad."

"A bit late for that, isn't it?" I retorted with a dry laugh. "There have been bad feelings between my father and I for well over two years."

"I think your aunt just wants to keep her family together," Brooke interjected, staring at me with wide brown eyes. "She knows that things between you and your dad have been rocky for awhile, but maybe she thought that with you coming to North Carolina for the summer, your problems would be fixed."

"And instead, they were made worse," Peyton added, looking at me sadly.

I looked away from her, returning my attention to the article spread across my lap. As my eyes scanned over the small printed words, an anger flared within my chest; the statements provided by the "very reliable source" were surprisingly hurtful.

_"'Hayley has been nothing but ungrateful toward her father since her arrival earlier this summer,' our source reports. 'Her father's attempts to repair problems in their relationship have been futile. Haley has absolutely no interest in mending her relationship with her father. She does, however, have an interest in spending nights drinking and partying with her friends.'"_

"Can you believe that?" I said shrilly, wanting nothing more than to strangle the life out of the "very reliable source."

"It's rubbish," Peyton said definitively, shaking her head. "You got drunk one time and now you're labeled a lush. It's ridiculous."

"And I had a very good reason for drinking that night!" I added, a slight flush rising in my cheeks. "Not only was I wearing a _hideous_ dress, my father was also marrying a woman I couldn't stand..." I paused, realization dawning on me like a blinding ray of sunlight.

"Hayley?" Brooke said, looking at me with worried eyes.

"Oh my god," I muttered, a small smile of disbelief spreading across my lips. "I can't believe it..."

"What?" Brooke urged.

"Olivia," I said, the name sliding off of my tongue like poison. "Olivia tipped off the Paper."


	19. Chapter 19

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Now, dear," Aunt Karen said delicately, her expression clearly conveying her belief that I was delusional, "you don't honestly believe that Olivia tipped off the newspaper, do you?" She brought her teacup to her lips, sipping the amber liquid gingerly.

Behind her, through the open bay window, the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon, scarcely visible beyond the high tops of the houses that lined the opposite side of the street. Small streaks of gleaming pink burned against the golden sky, its shimmering light spilling into the living room, bathing all of its occupants in heavy gold. Beside me, Brooke shifted her position, her long brown hair falling in sheets around her face.

"Who else could it have been?" I replied, balling my hands into tight fists. "She was the only other person in the flat besides my father and I."

Aunt Karen placed her cup back onto its intricately patterned china plate, pursing her lips in a frown I was unaccustomed to seeing on her face. Her eyes seemed to be examining my facial features with skepticism, as though she couldn't believe I was her own niece.

"Are you sure you weren't yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, Hayley?" she questioned me, her eyes still holding that disbelieving gleam.

"No, I wasn't," I said rather harshly, my eyes narrowing slightly.

"Dear, I'm not trying to make you feel as if I don't believe you," she said gently, her eyes now reflecting their usual kindness. "I just don't understand why Olivia would do such a horrible thing. I realize that the two of you have had a rocky relationship, but she loves your father, and it seems so odd that she would do something to intentionally hurt him."

"She's only after his money," I said spitefully, scoffing loudly. "The money and the prestige. Ever since I came here, she's thought that I was an ungrateful, spoiled brat. What better way to discredit me than to sell the paper a story about an argument my father and I had?"

"Hayley, that's not fair," Peyton said, giving me a disapproving look. "While Olivia may be a bit of an acquired taste, she's not with your father for his money. She has plenty of her own. Her family's quite well-to-do, you know."

I shook my head, waving a dismissive hand at her. "It doesn't matter. Since when has being comfortable been enough? Everything's about wanting more, even if you have more than you need. It's never enough. And besides, even if it isn't his money she's after, she wants the notoriety of being Jim James's wife."

"I just think you're jumping to hasty conclusions," Peyton said, settling herself deeper into the plush cushion of the couch.

"What do you mean?" I asked defensively, shooting her a nasty glare.

"You've had it out for her from the moment you saw her," she answered, sighing heavily. "She's not your mother, and you can't stand that your father would want to be with anyone but her."

I stared at her, an old anger flaring within my chest, hot embers burning into scorching flames. She was wrong; Olivia wasn't the bane of my existence merely because she was married to my father. It was something that ran much deeper than such trivial details. It was everything she embodied, everything she stood for, everything she believed.

"You have no right to say _anything_ like that to me," I said angrily, a flush rising in my cheeks. "You have no idea what it's like to have your parents split up, to watch your mother slowly disintegrate, or to see your father marry a woman that doesn't deserve him in the first place!" I stopped abruptly, realizing everything I'd just said. I'd allowed my emotions to get the better of me, and now everyone was aware of my feelings. It was a feeling that was strange and foreign to me, and as everyone's eyes locked onto me, I decided that it wasn't one I particularly liked.

Peyton's honey-colored eyes were swimming with surprise, her eyebrows raised in an expression of shock. "Hayley, I'm not trying to start an argument with you," she said shakily, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Then what _are_ you trying to do, Peyton?" I shot back, standing up from the couch.

"I'm trying to get you to realize that you're wrong about this," she said. "I know that what you're saying makes sense, but Olivia wouldn't do something like this to your dad. She loves him, whether or not you want to accept it."

"She doesn't," I said scathingly. "She wants fame, and being married to my father guarantees her that."

Across from me, Peyton sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes and rubbing them tiredly with her fingers. "If that's what you want to believe, Hayley, then fine. It's obvious that I can't change your mind."

"You're finally right about something," I replied, turning away from her and stomping out of the sitting room. I entered the kitchen, my face still flushed scarlet, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a pudding Aunt Karen had made earlier. I sat at the table, eating the pudding angrily, still resigned to the belief that I would be right in the end.

* * *

The cement of the backyard sidewalk felt damp on my legs as I stared up at the sky, black and twinkling with millions of burning stars. August was only days away, yet the night was cool and breezy, far too cold for the shorts and T-shirt clinging to my body. Shivering, I uncrossed my legs and stretched out on the pavement, placing my hands behind my head as I continued staring at the stars.

A few feet away, tucked inside of the warmth of the house, Peyton and Brooke sat in the kitchen discussing my irrational behavior. I could hear the faint traces of their voices floating out of the open kitchen window, small fragments of their conversation reaching my ears. Somewhere in my jumbled mind I knew that they meant well, but as I lay there on the cement, I couldn't bring myself to go inside and talk to them. My anger hadn't fully subsided, and I knew that walking into that house would only lead to inevitable disaster.

My stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as I remembered Peyton's words, stinging and hurtful. _"She's not your mother, and you can't stand that your father would want to be with anyone but her."_ Even if there was some truth in that accusation, it wasn't the reason why I disliked Olivia. Olivia was a vile excuse for a woman, conniving, manipulative and completely shallow. She didn't love my father. She loved his bank account and the marquees that proudly displayed his name.

She had always viewed me as a spoiled brat, an ungrateful girl who had the world and still wasn't satisfied. She had always believed that I had grown up with parents that showered me with every material item I could ask for, substituting love with gifts. In her mind, I was just like her, a whiny little rich girl with nothing but time on her hands.

But she was wrong. I was nothing like her, not in the ways she believed.

_You're the echoes of my everything  
you're the emptiness the whole world sings at night  
you're the laziness of afternoon  
you're the reason why I burst and why I bloomed  
you're the leaky sink of sentiment  
you're the failed attempts I never could forget  
you're all the metaphors I can't create  
to comprehend this curse that I call love_

I snapped my head up, reaching blindly for my cell phone. Motion City Soundtrack's "Hold Me Down" was floating into my ears, and I could hear the sound of the phone vibrating against the cement.

"Damn it," I muttered as the song continued to play, my hand still searching for the source of the noise. I finally found it just as the chorus repeated, putting the small phone up to my ear and saying, "Hello?" rather breathlessly.

"Hey," a familiar voice said cheerfully, my stomach doing a flip as I envisioned Nathan's face in my mind.

"Hi," I said, reassuming my previous position on the cement.

"What're you up to?" Nathan asked me. I could hear several people chatting in the background.

"I think I should ask you the same thing," I said, half-smiling.

"Oh, I'm just with Lucas and Jake right now," he said loudly. "One of our mates just turned twenty, so we're throwing him a party."

"Oh," I replied, idly playing with the hem of my shirt. "Having fun?"

I heard him sigh on the other end. "To be honest, not really."

"How come?"

"I don't know," he said, I could just imagine him running his hand through his hair. "Everyone wants to go back to Lucas's flat, but I'm not really in the mood for it. His girlfriend's there, anyway, and I don't think she's too keen on having fifteen blokes in her flat while she's trying to sleep."

I laughed, my eyes still staring up at the stars. "You could always come here," I suggested, realizing suddenly how much I wanted to see him.

"I think I'll do that," he said, and I could hear him shouting good-byes to his friends. "I'll be there in a bit."

"Okay," I said, sitting up. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, love," he said, and I closed my phone quickly. He always snuck little words of affection on me when I least expected it, and I was beginning to realize how much I hated it.

Stuffing my cell phone into my pocket, I stood up from my spot on the damp cement and headed toward the house. If Nathan was going to come over, I needed to change out of my dirtied clothes. I barely gave Peyton and Brooke a passing glance as I walked through the kitchen to the staircase, finally reaching my bedroom and slamming the door behind me.

* * *

"So it sounds like you had a pretty tough night," Nathan said to me after I'd explained what had happened earlier. Our legs were dangling in the cold air as we sat atop his car, our bodies touching slightly.

I nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly pleasant," I replied, shaking my head. "I hate fighting with them, but it doesn't matter. Everyone thinks I love arguments, so in their minds this is exactly what I wanted."

"If they think that, they're bonkers," he said, and I laughed. "They know you better than most, Hayley. I'm sure they'll come round soon."

"I just can't believe what Peyton said to me," I said, sighing. "She knows I hate talking about my parents' divorce, and for her to bring it up in front of everyone..." I trailed off, lowering my eyes to focus on my clasped hands.

Nathan looked at me, his penetrating blue eyes staring into my own. I felt like he could see right through to my soul in that moment, like we were nothing but two teenagers sitting on the hood of a car with forever stretching endlessly ahead of us. It was wonderful to feel normal, to forget about tabloids and rumors. Right then, none of that mattered. All that mattered was Nathan and I, our eyes searching for something we'd already found in each other.

"This is nice," Nathan said, and I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head delicately, and I held his hand in mine, feeling more content than I had in weeks. He had a strange way of putting me at ease; his simple presence calmed me.

Around us, crickets chirped and leaves rustled as gusts of wind swept through the night. But despite everything that surrounded us, it seemed like it was just Nathan and I together, staring up at a star-filled sky.

* * *

"Oh no. No, no, no."

I held the morning's issue of _The POST_ in my hands, a wave of nausea washing over me. Splattered across the front page was a photograph of Nathan and I on the hood of his car, holding hands and sharing a simple kiss. The headline _**Nathan Scott's New Love**_ was directly above it in bolded black letters, and a story describing our "passionate love affair" followed it.

I sank into the nearest chair and attempted to breathe deeply, but I was far beyond calming down. I couldn't believe that this was happening. The last thing I had wanted was for the public to find out about my relationship with Nathan.

I threw the newspaper across the room, watching it fall apart as it hit the wall. I closed my eyes and sighed, somehow knowing that everything was about to change.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"I just don't understand it," I said angrily, watching as Peyton and Brooke attempted to bake cookies. Their faces scrunched up in concentration, Brooke read the directions from the package as Peyton meticulously added the ingredients. If I hadn't been in such a foul mood, I would have laughed at the expressions on their faces, small smudges of flour dusted across their noses.

"Understand what?" Peyton asked distractedly, her eyes narrowed as she inspected the lumpy mix in the bowl in front of her.

"I don't understand how the paper managed to get hold of a picture of Nathan and I kissing when you and Jake are always out in public together, sucking each others' faces as though your saliva is as important as the air you breathe." I stared contemptuously at her, my arms folded tightly across my chest. Since our falling out a few days previously, Peyton and Brooke had been walking carefully around me, as though they were afraid of upsetting me further. We had managed to remain civil, but since seeing the photograph of Nathan and I in _The POST_, I was being considerably less friendly toward the two of them. They hadn't believed my theory about Olivia when I had first told them, but this latest article seemed to confirm it. I wanted to make them feel as guilty and moronic as possible.

Peyton looked at me, her eyes burning into my own. They were flashing dangerously, as though a fire had ignited within their honey-colored depths. I grimaced slightly, expecting nothing short of a full-out shouting match.

"For your information, Hayley," she began, throwing her mixing spoon back into its bowl, "Jake and I _don't_ go out in public together very often. In fact, the only time we allow ourselves to venture into the public eye is when we're out with you and Nathan. Mostly we stay at his flat, and what we do there is no concern of yours." She glared at me, her cheeks tinged pink.

"I was only saying that because you're always out with him," I replied defensively, feeling my own face burning. "I just assumed that the two of you spent a lot of time out in public together."

"Well, your assumptions were wrong, weren't they?" she shot back, returning her attention to the cookie dough. "In future, perhaps you should think things through before you say them."

I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling a flush rising in my cheeks, heat spreading rapidly across my face. "You're just angry because _you_ were wrong about Olivia and _I_ was right! Sometimes I don't think that you can stand being wrong about _anything_."

"Don't even tread into those waters, Hayley," she said evenly, her eyes still fixated on the mixing bowl. "I don't exactly need to hear commentary from the world's thickest git."

"_Me?_" I cried, outraged. "You can't stand being proven wrong! You always have to be right, Miss-Fucking-Self-Assured!"

My words seemed to have struck a nerve with my normally even-tempered cousin; in an instant, the mixing spoon had crashed to the ground with a resounding _crack,_ and I felt the foundations of the house shifting as her feet slapped against the floor. Within seconds she was mere inches from my face, her honey eyes flashing with an anger I had never seen present within them before.

"Listen to me, Hayley," she said, her voice shaking, "I don't know who the bloody hell you think you are, but you'd better get a reality check _fast_. I should think you'd be a bit more grateful in the position you've gotten yourself into. I didn't have to let you stay here, but because you're family and _I love you_, I decided to give you a place to stay. But I don't always have to be so welcoming, you know. I could kick you out right now and you'd have to go crawling back to daddy dearest, or even worse, to Nathan, the man you bloody well love but can't commit to! Quite frankly, I'm tired of your attitude, your negativity, and your concentrated effort to convince yourself that what you have with Nathan is nothing more than a summer fling. You and Nathan both know it's more than that, Hayley. The difference between the two of you is that he can admit to it, and you can't. And do you know what that makes you? Do you? Nothing more than a cynical, spiteful _bitch_."

The sunlight streaming in through the window played across Peyton's face, illuminating it in an eerily sinister fashion. Staring into eyes I no longer recognized, I shivered, a hollow feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. Her words hung heavily in the air, so tangible I felt as though I could reach out and wrap my fingers around them. My face was stinging, perhaps from embarrassment or anger - or maybe from both.

Words, the single things I had relied on my entire life, failed me in that moment. When I needed my defense most, it shattered, crumbled into a million microscopic pieces. There were no clever comebacks, no witty remarks to refute her accusations. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, nothing but time and angry words standing between us, I found that nothing quite compared to the feeling racing throughout my veins.

Hurt. Anger. _Plain infuriation._

But not because she had shouted, not because she had sounded so venomous as the words slid off of her tongue. It was because she had been right. And I had finally realized that.

_She had always been right.

* * *

_

Forgiveness has never been easy for me. Back home, in the high school I was so glad to be rid of, people used to call me Hayley the Grudge Queen. Not very creative, I know, but accurate nonetheless.

I suppose it was okay then, as I didn't care much about others' opinions or the words mumbled discreetly as I walked by. _Cynical and proud,_ I'd tell myself. _Better to be alone than to deal with the idiocy of the teenage population._

But slowly, I was beginning to realize that perhaps I'd been wrong all those years. Perhaps I'd been hiding from the world, protecting myself from dangers that would inevitably fall upon me anyway. Perhaps I'd just been afraid, the polar opposite of what I'd always liked to believe.

_Perhaps I was never meant to be anything more than a cynic._

Perhaps what was most difficult of all was forgiving myself. Letting go of my pride. Admitting to my mistakes.

And even though I was still stuck in the dreaded _denial stage_ with Nathan, I knew that I had to suck up my pride and apologize to my cousin. In the weeks I had spent with her, Peyton had easily become one of my closest, most trusted friends. Even though I was reluctant to admit it, her friendship meant more to me than winning an argument, and I knew that I had to find a way to regain her trust.

So as I walked down the narrow hallway toward her bedroom, I was mulling over the various scenarios that could play out after her door opened. Another shouting match, the cold shoulder, a long, drawn out discussion...everything seemed so negative, so unlike what I _wanted_ to happen.

Breathing deeply, I raised my fist to the hard wooden door, the sound of the knocking echoing off of the walls surrounding me. A few moments passed in silent trepidation, my fingers playing with the hem of my shirt nervously. I chewed my bottom lip, anxiety surging through my skin.

At long last, the door slowly creaked open. Peyton stood there, her hair falling into her face, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. I expected her to slam the door in my face, but she didn't; instead, she stepped forward a few inches and threw her arms around me, pulling me into a warm, apologetic hug.

In spite of myself, I hugged her back, letting a small smile spread across my lips.

Forgiveness was never easy, but at that moment it wasn't needed.

It never was with best friends.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hayley's P.O.V**

Rain was pattering against the high windows, _pat pat pat_ on the glass, reminding me strangely of bare feet slapping against asphalt. The sun was covered by a thick, dense mist, hanging idly in the air like tangled cobwebs. Cars passed leisurely through the winding roads encircling the small neighborhood, tires rolling through deep puddles filled with murky rainwater. I stared out at the rainy day, similar yet so different from the countless others I'd observed since arriving in North Carolina.

A familiar black Mercedes pulled up beside the curb, small droplets of rain glimmering like tiny magnificent diamonds on its windshield. My heartbeat quickened as my eyes caught sight of the head of dark brown hair that emerged from the car, a sizzling, electrifying feeling that I had come to associate with Nathan surging through my bones. I rested my face against the cool glass of the window in hopes of calming my burning cheeks.

He raised his head tentatively to the sky, rain cascading down his face, soaking his hair and matting it to his forehead. He stood there for a moment, immobile, a soft smile spreading across his face. The rain continued to pour down his face, and he embraced it, as though it were a thick blanket he found himself sinking into.

My fingers were trembling as I watched him, awe-struck, completely fascinated by his behavior, his total lack of inhibition. I found my thoughts straying to myself, my restraints, my complete lack of spontaneity and _fun_. It was almost as though I was incapable of recklessness, of throwing caution to the wind. As though staying within the sturdy enclosure of my safety net was all that mattered. As though Jake's words of advice had meant nothing: '_sometimes, you've got to forget everything and take a chance'._

Something was growing steadily within me, a strong desire to break free of the fears and doubts that kept me locked inside of my apprehension. As I watched Nathan standing there, now soaking wet, I felt my body tingling all the way to the tips of my toes; something was happening, something bigger than anything I could've ever imagined, something completely _amazing_.

Not bothering to slip into my shoes or throw a sweater over my shoulders, I leapt from my bed and raced down the stairs, catching a fleeting glimpse of the bewildered faces of Brooke and Peyton. I pulled open the front door and stopped, my heart beating rapidly; Nathan was still standing there, his eyes now falling upon me. And without another moment's hesitation, I began running, running until I could feel fire burning in my chest.

My hair was flying wildly behind me. It became thicker, damper as each second passed, rain falling upon me heavily from the charcoal sky. And soon I was drenched, sopping wet from head to toe; my T-shirt clinging tightly to my skin, my jeans soaked through and dripping, I looked into Nathan's twinkling eyes and smiled.

"I thought you preferred warm, dry places!" he shouted above the onslaught of rain, his voice holding a hint of amusement. He grinned, lopsided and cheeky, familiar and new all at once.

I shook my head, raindrops rolling down my cheek and off of my chin. I thought of replying, thought to explain myself to him, but instead allowed myself to smile wider as I raced towards him, my eyes blazing, fingers still trembling.

His arms wrapped around my waist instantly as my arms found their way around his neck. And without hesitation, I managed to throw caution to the wind as I sent my lips crashing against his, kissing him like I'd never kissed anyone before.

It was amazing, passionate, completely _indescribable_; soft lips upon soft lips, breath hot on my skin, the slight brush of his tongue against my own. I felt as though I would explode if I kept kissing him, but in that moment I would've welcomed it if it meant I could be that close to him for only a moment longer.

_I love you, I love you, I love you,_ I repeated over and over in my mind, my head spinning as each dizzying second in his kiss passed. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

And it didn't matter to me then that I'd never be able to say those three words to him. All I cared about was then, that wonderful moment in time, the lips that moved against mine fervently, passionately. All I cared about then was _right now.

* * *

_

"Okay," Nathan said, ushering me into his flat, "I've just got to shower and change, and I'll be out."

I nodded, wrapping my towel closer around my shivering body. I pushed my hair away from my face, still damp and slightly dripping. Nathan smiled at me, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on my cold lips.

"Actually," he said seductively, his voice low and suggestive, "we could save time and shower together."

I looked up at him, a grin spreading across my lips. "Okay," I replied, leaning into him and kissing him deeply.

He pulled away sharply, disbelief evident in his clear blue eyes. "Are you...do you...I mean to say...are you serious?"

I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. "Ye - no." I laughed as his face fell, his hopes crushed.

"Tease," he mumbled jokingly, throwing his towel at me. I grabbed it and raced into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I laughed even harder as he yelled for me to let him in, but I wasn't relenting. I climbed into the shower and smiled to myself, the sound of Nathan's complaining faintly audible as hot, soothing water fell onto my body.

* * *

Nathan and I sat on his plush, comfortable couch later that evening, his arm wrapped loosely around my shoulders. It was the closest I had ever allowed myself to get to him; it was almost as though we were two people folded into one, a tangle of arms and legs and beating hearts.

A movie was playing on the television in front of us, but neither of us were paying it much attention. Occasionally, we'd steal a few kisses, but mostly we were content just being with each other, the electricity between us cackling and snapping like a live wire. It was strange, almost, how willing I was to let myself fall into this, a situation I knew could only end in disaster.

But disaster wasn't on my mind as I sat there with Nathan, warm shivers racing down my spine. _I wasn't thinking at all._

And for once, that was okay.

Nathan shifted beside me, turning his face so that his eyes were staring straight into mine. His lips turned upward in a small smile, his eyes sparkling brightly.

"I have something for you," he said, removing his arm from around me and reaching for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small box, and I felt my throat constricting. I felt dread forming within my stomach - surely what I _thought_ was happening wasn't _really_ playing out before my eyes.

"I haven't given this to anyone else," he said seriously, his fingers tracing the outline of the box slowly. "Trust issues, I suppose."

"Nathan..." I began, my throat becoming even more constricted. We had been getting along fine; why did he have to foul it up now?

"So," he said, ignoring the fearful expression on my face, "this means that I trust you. And respect you. And...well, here." He placed the box into my shaking hands, looking at me expectantly.

_Oh, goddamnit,_ I thought angrily to myself, my cheeks burning a deep shade of crimson.

"Go on," he urged me, smiling eagerly. I looked up at him, suppressing the urge to cringe.

I opened the box slowly, afraid of what I would see once the top was removed. Holding my breath, I lifted the lid and peered in to see a shining, gleaming gold key.

"A key," I said, releasing the breath I'd been holding. I almost wanted to laugh. A wave of relief washed over me; to think, I had been fearing a ring!

"Yeah," he replied excitedly, removing it from its box. "A key to my flat."

"To your flat?" I repeated, my mouth hanging open. "As in...this flat?"

He laughed. "Yeah, this flat. My flat. In Tree Hill. The one you're in right now."

"But..." I paused, at a complete loss for words.

"But what?" he asked, his smile fading slightly. "I thought...well, I thought it would be nice for you to have access to the flat whenever you wanted. And like I said before, I trust you. I really do."

"Nate," I said, placing the key back into its box, "I can't take this."

"Why not?" he asked, his face falling.

"Because...I'm leaving soon," I said, ignoring the twinge I felt in my stomach. "Would it really make sense for me to have this?"

He looked at me, his eyes burning into my own. I saw a truth lingering within them that I hadn't noticed before. It was striking and clear, obvious yet hidden.

"You're here now," he said simply, his eyes never leaving mine. "And that's what matters."

He placed the key back into my hand and closed my fingers around it. I felt the cool metal beneath my fingertips, tracing its grooves and designs absentmindedly.

"Okay," I said, nodding, placing the small, shining key into my pocket. "Okay."

* * *

The key fit into the lock perfectly, and with a resounding _click_ throughout the small entrance hall, the door creaked open. Stepping tentatively inside, I shut the door behind me and called out, "Nathan?" 

When I didn't receive a response, I frowned and made my way down the hallway towards the bedroom. I could see that he hadn't tidied up since I'd been over a few nights previously; dishes were left on his bedside table, his bed was a rumpled mess, and a disgusting, smelly heap of dirty clothes lay in a corner, a pair of underpants thrown carelessly across the top. I wrinkled my nose up in disgust as I surveyed the room, a peculiar odor wafting into my nose.

"Ugh," I mumbled to myself, walking across the room to the dirty laundry. "Oh god. This is so _gross_."

The clothes had a putrid, moldy odor to them, indicating that they'd been sitting there for weeks, maybe longer. I resisted the urge to gag and left the bedroom, heading in the direction of the kitchen. I knew that Nathan would never do this on his own; in fact, he was probably waiting for his mother to come over and do his washing for him.

"The helpless moron," I muttered under my breath, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves from his cleaning cabinet. I wasn't about to touch _those_ clothes without proper protection.

I reentered Nathan's bedroom equipped with a large trash bag, my hands covered securely with the gloves. Carefully, cautiously, I made my way over to the disgusting heap of clothes, grabbing handfuls of his garments and throwing them into the bag.

After I'd gathered all of the laundry, I removed the gloves from my hands and scribbled a note to Nathan and left it on his bed, one of the few places I knew he'd see it.

Nate the note read,

_You're disgusting. _

Hayley

* * *

"Hayley," Brooke said suspiciously, her eyebrows raised in surprise, "what the _hell_ are you doing?"

I looked up from the washing machine, dropping in the cup of detergent I'd been holding in my hand. I glared at her in annoyance, breathing a bit heavily. "What does it _look_ like I'm doing, Brooke?"

Brooke ignored my sarcastic tone and continued questioning me. "I know what you're doing. I'm not _that_ stupid." I scoffed and she rolled her eyes, ignoring me once more. "What I _meant_ was, why are you doing a _guy's_ laundry?"

"Who says I'm doing a guy's laundry?" I said, adding a bit of color-safe bleach to the soapy water.

"Well, the last time I checked, you didn't own any tighty whities or boxer shorts. Unless, of course, there's something you're not telling me about yourself." She smirked, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

"You're just hilarious today, aren't you?" I said, shaking my head. "If you must know, I'm doing Nathan's laundry."

"Nate's laundry," she repeated, as though she couldn't believe I had actually said it. "You're doing Nate's laundry."

I nodded. "You've figured it out. Congratulations."

"Since when have _you_ done anything for a guy, Hayley?" she questioned me, not bothering to hide the surprise and disbelief in her voice. She was staring at me intently, her wide brown eyes conveying her shock.

"Believe me," I said as I threw in some of the clothes, "this is nothing more than a charity case. I was afraid that some new breed of animal that feeds on dirty underpants was going to form within that disgusting heap."

"Right," she replied, smirking. "I believe you. Honest."

"I'm being serious," I insisted, hurling more clothes into the washer. "I couldn't stand the stench. It was revolting."

"Then why didn't you just tell Nathan to do it himself?" she asked me, that damn annoying smirk still spread smugly across her lips.

I sighed exasperatedly, running my fingers through my hair roughly. "Because I know him well enough by now to know that he won't do this for himself. He was probably waiting to have his mother come to wash his things. And since I spend such a considerable amount of time in his flat, _I_ have to deal with the smell of his dirty clothes, so I decided to do something about it."

"You are _so_ falling for this guy, Hayley," Brooke squealed, grinning broadly. "What did I tell you before you left? Didn't I say this _exact_ thing would happen?"

"You have three seconds to get out of here before I throw Nathan's dirty underpants in your face," I said threateningly, watching as she turned and ran up the stairs chanting, "I told you so!" repeatedly. I cringed.

Scowling, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Nathan's number, waiting impatiently for him to pick up. When he finally did, I growled into the phone, "Come pick up your clothes, you lazy sod," and hung up before he had a chance to utter a word.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"What's all this about?" Nathan asked as he followed me into the laundry closet, his face jumbled with confusion. He was running a hand through his hair nervously, chewing anxiously on his lip. I ignored him, shooting him a steely glare before pointing to a bag filled with his clean, laundered clothes.

"I should hope you saw the note I left for you in your flat," I said snippily, heaving the bag up and throwing it into Nathan's arms. He stumbled a bit and shot me a nasty look, an amused smirk threatening to spread across my lips.

"I didn't see any note," he replied, placing the bag onto the floor. "Where'd you put it?"

"On your bed," I said evenly. "Of course, you might have overlooked it as you've done with everything else in that cesspool of disgust."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, following me as I turned to leave.

"It means that you're a filthy slob," I clarified. "Do you realize that you had a pile of clothes sitting in the corner of your bedroom that reeked of rancid milk?"

He paused for a moment, his features momentarily unreadable. "So that's what that smell was," he said, his eyes brightening as a grin broke out onto his face.

"In future, I'd advise you to do your washing before your underpants grow mold," I said, smirking as his face scrunched up in disgust. "If you think that's disgusting, imagine how _I_ felt washing them!"

"Kindly remember that I never _asked_ you to do my laundry," he said, following me down the staircase. Upon noticing my sour expression, he quickly said, "But of course I appreciate it loads, love."

"Well, don't expect it happening again. I absolutely refuse to ever wash a pair of your underpants again. From now on, that's your job." I flashed him the most serious look I could muster before plopping down on the sofa in the sitting room, exhaling loudly.

"So," he began as he sat down next to me, "what do you have planned for today?"

I shrugged, my eyes darting toward the window, a clear azure sky visible through the glass. A passing car rolled through the street, its shiny red exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Turning my head towards Nathan, I sighed and said, "Not much of anything, really. Aunt Karen's making a pie for dinner, but I'm not much for it."

"You must be mad to pass up a pie," he replied with a laugh. "Then again, you do have odd tastes."

"Oh yes, so odd," I said sarcastically. "I mean, what _normal_ person would rather have pizza than cow intestines?"

Nathan rolled his eyes and gave me a smile.

"Well, since you're turning down what your aunts making, how about you come by the flat and have tea with me?" He looked at me, his eyes piercing my own. I often felt that his gaze saw through the brown of my eyes and stared straight into my soul, seeing things I wasn't even aware lingered within me. It was an unsettling feeling, knowing that someone I had never wanted to let in was already starting to become a part of who I was. I cringed as the thought flashed across my mind, trying desperately to occupy my thoughts with anything other than the relationship Nathan and I shared.

"If you'd rather stay here, that's fine too," he said hurriedly upon noticing the expression on my face.

Shaking my head quickly, I replied, "No, no, I'd love to come over. I was just...thinking." I waved my hand dismissively, hoping that he wouldn't press the subject.

Seeming to catch my hint, Nathan merely nodded and smiled. He glanced at his watch, his eyes narrowing. "Right, then. If I have to cook you a bloody meal, then we should be going."

I raised my eyebrows, nudging him playfully in the arm. "You'd better watch your tone with me, Nate, or else there will be no dessert after dinner."

He groaned, standing up and following me to the door. "How can you threaten me with something we haven't even _done_ yet?"

I shrugged, keeping my face passive and my voice casual. "Who knows, it might be your lucky night." I glanced back at him and grinned, dissolving into laughter as he chased me out of the house.

* * *

It was always something small, something extraordinarily simple that seemed to wedge itself into my memory, forever planting itself in a small corner of my mind that I'd look back on with a wistful smile. I never remembered the whole scene or the main details; instead, my memory was filled with phrases, sounds and scents that made sense only to me. I used to think it a good thing that I could never remember the big picture. In my mind, it was a way of escaping hurt and heartache, a way to block out the bad and embrace the good.

Sometimes an occasional memory would flitter through my mind, but only when I was at my most weakened state. Sometimes, when I was feeling down or depressed or considerably nostalgic, I'd allow my mind to wander past the vague generalities and open itself to the whole scene, rich in color and scenery and detail. And in these rare moments, I'd soak up every detail I could grasp, allowing myself to _feel_ if only for a few moments in time.

Since I'd met Nathan at the beginning of the summer, things had been different for me in every way imaginable. My entire life had been flipped upside down, things I had once viewed as foolish and pathetic now the center of my existence. I was letting an emotion I had once viewed with disdain dominate my life, and while still remaining stubbornly oblivious to the drastic changes in my personality, I was slowly starting to realize the impact the summer's events had had on me.

Instead of being thankful for my selective memory, I was now finding myself longing to remember every moment, every millisecond spent with Nathan, Peyton, and everyone else I'd leave behind once August drew to a close. I was desperately clinging to anything I could remember, anything that would prove significant when I returned home to my empty house with only my mother's sad, tired eyes as company. I wanted to go back with something substantial, something so real and vivid it was almost tangible.

And yet, at the same time, I was almost afraid to leave with a mind full of happy memories. I feared that I'd miss the things I wasn't supposed to have in the first place, and I knew that longing for such things was something I'd rather not waste my time doing. Especially not at university, where I was planning on starting over, a fresh new beginning waiting patiently for me.

Everything I'd come across in Tree Hill - from Peyton and Aunt Karen to Nathan and our relationship - was never intended to last. And that was the way I had wanted things to be, even before I'd stepped into the airport on that early June morning.

So that was why I smiled at Nathan as we sipped wine at his flat later that evening, savoring every moment to its fullest. Because I knew that it was all I had, and as the weeks dwindled down into days, it was all I was ever going to have. A summer romance that would end when I walked back into the airport as the season died, gradually fading into phrases and scents and sounds as New York consumed me.

Nathan turned to me then, his eyes twinkling brightly amidst the emotions I saw floating within them. He smiled back at me, lopsided and knowing, just as he always had. And I knew without really knowing that I'd remember that smile, even if I tried to erase it from my memory. It was a small piece to my puzzle, and although it wasn't the whole picture, it was the piece that would eventually complete it.

"You know," Nathan said, taking a sip from his glass, "this might just be the wine talking, but I think that you look smashing tonight."

I laughed, my face flushed. "What a compliment," I replied, still chuckling. "But I think you must be right. Look at me. I'm a mess."

Nathan shook his head, setting his glass down onto the table in front of us. "No. You're far from a mess. I think I actually prefer you this way, with your hair wild and wearing sweatpants. Makes it all the more obvious that you're a natural beauty."

"I'm far from beautiful, Nathan," I replied stubbornly, even though my stomach was flipping at his words, my cheeks tinged a horrible shade of pink.

"I mean it," he continued, waving his hand dismissively at my protests. "And it's not just your physical beauty either. Because yeah, you're gorgeous, but it's more of what I see when I look into your eyes. Do you know what I'm saying?"

I shook my head no, but inside I knew exactly what he was saying. It was the same thing I saw in his eyes, something comforting and real and absolutely indescribable.

"The thing is," he continued, seemingly unbothered by what I had just done, "I've never met anyone quite like you before. You're so...hard to read, that's it. At first. But now...well, I can't say that you're an open book, but at least I've been able to scratch the surface a bit. I'm seeing you as who you are, Hayley, and...well, suffice it to say that I think you're great. Plain and simple."

"I think you need to lay off the wine," I said jokingly, attempting to laugh his statements off. "You'd better stop talking before you say something _really_ embarrassing."

He shook his head once more, reaching for his glass as he did so. "None of this is embarrassing," he said seriously, taking a long sip of the burgundy liquid. "I'm being honest. Truthful. _Blunt,_ if you will."

"Are you going to remember any of this in the morning?" I asked him, laughing.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I'm not exactly pissed yet, but...well, it's anyone's guess, I suppose."

"Maybe," I began, scooting closer to him on the sofa, "we should forget about words and emotions and just _be._ You know?"

He looked at me, his expression confused. "Just be," he repeated.

"Together," I said, resting my head on his chest. "Enjoying each others' company without any worries."

After a moment he nodded, wrapping his arm around me. His eyes closed as moonlight from the open window splashed across his face, illuminating it in the darkness. He planted a small kiss on top of my head, his fingers slowly tracing patterns along my arm. I buried my head deeper into his chest, listening to his heart beating steadily, rhythmically, _thump thump thump._ I smiled as my eyes slowly closed, feeling my own heart beating against his, the only audible sound.

_Just be,_ I thought to myself, Nathan's heartbeat still strong against my own.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hayley's P.O.V**

My eyes involuntarily shifted toward the calendar hanging on my wall, adjacent to my spot on my bed. A number was circled in heavy black ink, thick and dark enough to catch your attention if your eyes wandered in the calendar's general direction. _August 29._ A Tuesday. A strange sensation fell upon me, starting in my stomach and rising into my throat as I realized that I was exactly two weeks away from leaving Tree Hill North Carolina and all of its memories behind.

Flinging myself back onto my pillows, I sighed and cast my gaze toward the ceiling, stark white and lacking vibrancy. It reminded me strangely of how I had been when I'd first arrived in Tree Hill earlier that summer, angry and bitter, a muted shade amongst a world draped in color. And now, even I could tell that I'd changed, _blossomed_ from the resentful girl I'd once been into a fiery, vivid woman.

And somehow I still couldn't believe that I'd transformed so quickly, so suddenly after I swore to myself that I wouldn't. I still couldn't believe that I'd met someone like Nathan and allowed myself to become close to him, so close that the thought of leaving him behind caused my chest to ache and burn with a pain so intense I could barely stand it.

Because of this, I was spending every waking moment attempting to shift my attention away from the inevitability of my leaving in two weeks. When I was surrounded by others, the task was quite simple; I'd laugh, joke and enjoy myself, my mind often occupied with anything but New York, university and airplanes that would carry me across state back home. It was in the moments in between, where I'd be sprawled across my bed or watching Nathan as he slept, when the reality of everything hit me.

I wasn't accustomed to such feelings; the only experience I'd ever had with losing someone was with my father, and that had turned out horribly. Something in the back of my mind was urging me not to make the same mistakes twice, but I pressed on, stubbornly ignoring my inner protests and convincing myself that everyone would be better off after I left.

Of course, I wasn't _entirely_ convinced, but I was working on it.

"Hayley!" Peyton's voice resonated throughout the hallway, floating in through my open door. I sat up, glaring in annoyance at the sudden noise.

"What?" I yelled back, running my hands through my messy hair in frustration.

The soft pattering of flip-flops against the stairs reached my ears, signaling Peyton's arrival in my bedroom before she even had the chance to knock on the door. She entered without my consent (as per usual) and immediately flopped down onto my bed, knocking over the stack of brochures for University, that I had been pretending to read.

"Mind picking those up?" I said dryly, resting my head against my pillows. Peyton looked at me, the sparkle that had been shining in her eyes now gone.

"What's the matter?" she asked, concern thick in her voice. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied, waving her concerns away with a dismissive sigh. "Now, would you mind telling me why you screamed for me and then ran up the stairs to get me?"

She was unconvinced; I could tell by the doubt lingering in her gaze. Still, she shook her head and fixed me with a pointed stare, her eyes once again regaining their excited sparkle. "Well," she began, leaning in closer to me, "I've just gotten off the phone with Jake, and he wanted to know if we were up for a party tonight."

"A party?" I repeated, already feeling myself starting to decline the offer.

She nodded. "Yeah. You know, those things where lots of people gather together, talk, mingle and have fun."

"Oh, you mean those things where people get drunk, jump into bed with each other and make complete jackasses of themselves." I paused, smirking slightly as she sighed exasperatedly. "Very tempting, Peyton, but I think I'll pass."

"You really need to stop being such a pessimist," she said, rolling her eyes as she threw the University brochures back onto the bed. "It might do you some good to come out with us tonight. Everyone's going, Nathan included."

"Well, that's lovely for him," I replied, although I was slowly beginning to become more interested in the idea. "Let him go and have fun."

"Oh, come _on_ Hayley. We're just going to the lake again. You remember the one, right? It's not even going to be a huge affair. Just a few of us getting together, you know...to sort of...well, to wish you goodbye."

There was an unfamiliar burning sensation within my eyes as I stared at her, and I immediately looked away in shame. Crying, especially over something I had known was going to happen, was not acceptable.

"I..." I began, blinking furiously; the reality of everything was suddenly hitting me all at once, catching me off-guard and unprepared. I had known that my stay in Tree Hill wasn't permanent, and I had convinced myself on numerous occasions that I was making the right choice by going to University in the fall. But as I sat on my bed, staring at the girl who had become the sister I'd never had, I couldn't help but feel as though I were making a terrible mistake.

"This isn't the end, you know," Peyton said quietly, her soft honey eyes filled with understanding.

I did not respond; instead, I merely looked at her, my eyes prickling and burning with unshed tears.

"You'll come back and visit," she continued, her own eyes filling with tears. "I'll come and stay with you in New York. And Nathan..."

"I don't want to talk about Nathan," I interrupted, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

"If you don't talk about it, you're never going to be able to deal with it when you do leave," she said, sighing. "You need to figure out what you're going to do about this relationship."

"I've already figured it out," I said angrily. "It's over as soon as I step foot into the airport."

She stared at me, her eyes once again shining with disbelief, something I often caught floating within their honey depths when they landed upon me. I stared back, a fierce look splashed across my features; despite the burning sensation in my eyes, I was determined to let her know that I meant what I'd said. I had never planned on my relationship with Nathan lasting past my summer vacation; to have hopes for something so unpractical was foolish at best.

"I just hope you realize what you're doing," she said at last, a hint of finality in her voice. She pressed her lips together tightly, forming a thin line; I knew that there was more she wanted to say to me, but like she'd done so many times before, she held her tongue.

"I do," I replied, ignoring the feeling in my stomach that very clearly told me I didn't.

She nodded, her lips still pressed firmly together. Standing from my bed, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and said, "So are you going to come tonight or not?"

A faint vision of twinkling stars flashed across my mind as I remembered that first night I'd spent at the lake.

_"But how will I know?" I asked, somehow knowing that these words meant more to me than just future career choices. _

"You just do. It's one of those things. One day, it'll hit you, and you'll just know." He looked at me then, and as our eyes locked, I saw the stars burning in the clear depths of his eyes. 

I shook my head, ridding my mind of the memory. I looked at Peyton, and before I could think twice about what I was saying, I was agreeing to go to the lake one final time before I left. My cousin smiled warmly at me, waving to me as she pranced out of my bedroom, her hair dancing behind her.

* * *

The night was warm and humid, a heavy breeze slowly swirling across the water, feeling like tiny raindrops against my skin as it blew past me. A tendril of hair landed itself in my eyes, and I pushed it away in annoyance. My feet were brushing the long blades of overgrown grass as I sat on the bumper of Lucas's truck, my chest tight and shoulders slumped.

From a distance I could see everyone congregated together, heads thrown back in laughter and the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air. Nathan's eyes were sparkling as he laughed at Peyton's imitation of me when I had first arrived in North Carolina - headstrong, stubborn and highly cynical. _Not much has changed,_ I thought wryly to myself, allowing a small smile to spread across my lips.

They were beckoning me to them, their arms raised high as they waved me over. All of their faces ran together as I stared at them, Rachel turning into Peyton into Brooke, then Lucas into Jake into Nathan...I felt my chest tighten even further, my vision blurred by an onslaught of angry tears.

_This is the last night you have with them,_ I thought to myself as the tears spilled from my eyes onto my cheeks, heavy and filled with emotions I'd never allowed myself to feel. _This is the last night._

And suddenly it was hitting me, the fact that in a few days' time I would be back on a plane to New York, a few states away from everything and everyone I'd come to know and respect and _love_ since I'd first arrived in North Carolina. After tonight they'd be nothing more than the stars twinkling brightly above me, brilliantly burning a million miles out of reach.

My name was floating across the star-strewn sky, echoes of their voices faintly penetrating my ears. They were pulling me back towards a life I knew I never wanted to leave, but knew would eventually burn and fizzle into mere memories, like the stars as the sun crept into an orange sky.

The alcohol was working wonders; I knew this because my vision was blurred and my movements were lazy as I stumbled over to them, remnants of the tears I had shed moments previously still clinging to my eyelashes. They didn't seem to notice; I was immediately engulfed by their laughter and smiles and twinkling eyes, my own mingling with them.

* * *

"Do you remember," I began slowly as I looked at Nathan, my words slightly slurred, "that last night we had here, under the stars?" I grinned lazily at him, my eyes half-closed.

He nodded, his eyes glassy from the alcohol. He grinned back at me, his hand squeezing mine as his empty beer bottle fell into the grass below us.

"Do you remember what you said to me?" I asked him, taking a tentative sip of the drink in my hand; the taste was repulsing, yet I continued to consume it, somehow knowing that it was the only way I'd ever open up to Nathan the way I wanted to.

"Bits of it," he replied, shrugging. "My mind...it's fuzzy right now, you know?" He laughed, his head lolling to the side.

"You told me that when I least expected it, I'd find what I'd been searching for," I said, ignoring his laughter. My voice was strangely calm and clear, and my mind was suddenly devoid of any and all doubt.

He looked at me then, his eyes focusing on mine, blue colliding with brown. And that was when I felt it, deep within my chest; a burning, aching yearning for him, for his touch, his taste, his smile. "Have you found it?" he asked quietly, his words sloppily running together.

I found myself nodding, my lips turning upward in a smile. "I never thought...coming here, I never expected to meet someone that would change my entire life, you know? I never believed in fate, destiny, any of that garbage...it was always me running the show, my life, always me setting the rules for everything. Fate, you know, I think that's what this is. It's an odd thing, fate..." I paused, my eyes locking with his. "It led me to you. You're what I've been searching for. And I think I've known that all this time, but I just never knew how to say it."

Nathan opened his mouth to reply, but I shook my head. Instead, I rested my head against his chest, our hands still lightly intertwined. My eyes gazed upward toward the sky as I committed that moment to my memory forever, a thousand sparkling stars burning brightly above us.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hayley's P.O.V**

_Thump thump thump._ It was the banging that caused my eyes to flutter open, burning as mid-morning sunshine penetrated them through the open window. For a moment I thought it was my heart making the noise, hammering from the dream I'd just been rudely ripped away from.

_Thump thump thump._

"Go away," I yelled, burying my head under my pillow.

I heard the door creak open slowly, immediately followed by soft footsteps making their way over to my bed. The scent of coffee reached my nostrils and I sniffed the air hopefully, my mouth already watering for a taste of the deliciously caffeinated beverage.

I opened my eyes to see Nathan sitting beside me on my bed, a wide grin on his face. "I brought you a frappucinno," he said, bringing the drink in front of my eyes for emphasis. "But if you really want me to leave, I'll take the drink along with me."

"No!" I squealed, grabbing the cup from his hand before he could move away. "Don't you dare deprive me of my caffeine."

He laughed as he set his own drink on my nightstand, watching with an amused smile as I drank the frappucinno happily. "Good?" he asked, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Very," I replied, nodding. "Thanks for bringing it for me."

"You're very welcome," he said, lowering his head and finally pressing his lips against mine. I deepened the kiss, suddenly wanting to be as close to him as I could; he responded eagerly, lowering himself onto me as I pulled him onto the bed, my hands tangled in his hair.

It seemed as though the minutes were passing like hours, long and drawn out, filled with heat and passion and something indescribable that had suddenly grabbed hold of me, forcing my hands to linger on Nathan's belt buckle as all rational thought suddenly flew from my mind, leaving me dizzy and slightly disoriented.

"Hayley," Nathan said suddenly, his breath warm against my lips, "I don't think we should do this. Not here."

"Where, then?" I breathed, my mouth once again latching onto his as I continued kissing him.

"The flat," he said as he broke away from me, his breathing shallow and labored. "Later on. Maybe when we're both thinking a bit more clearly."

I stared up at him, agitation written clearly across my face. "I've never heard of a man turning down completely consensual sex before, Nathan."

"Then obviously you haven't been with the right men," he replied, his eyes locked with mine. "If you haven't picked up on it yet, I respect and care about you. I want to make sure we're both ready for such a large step."

"Always the gentleman," I said with a small smile, a feeling of contentment settling over me as he kissed me gently, softly.

"Come over later," he said quietly, his fingers absently playing with my hair, "and we'll see what happens then."

"Okay," I replied, my arms slinking around his neck as I pulled him closer to me, his head resting peacefully on my chest. Outside, cars passed through the street and children laughed playfully, but I heard nothing but Nathan's steady breathing, calming and relaxing as we drifted to sleep.

* * *

"I love your hair," Nathan said quietly as we laid together in his bed, our breathing slowly returning to normal. It was dusk, the sky blending in with same tall buildings that were the backdrop of the neighborhood. Night was slowly falling upon us, blanketing the city in dark shades of purple and black. But I noticed nothing but Nathan's hands in my hair, his eyes staring straight into mine as though he were looking directly into my soul.

"You mean the wretched light brown?" I whispered, half-laughing. "I'd trade it for something different any day. Blonde, perhaps. Or maybe even a nice chocolate brown."

Nathan shook his head, his nose scrunched up in dislike. "I don't think I'd like you with hair like that."

"Why not?" I asked, my eyes slightly narrowed.

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes holding more truth than I'd ever seen floating within them before. "It'd make you look like everyone else," he replied simply. "And you're certainly _not_ like everyone else."

I grinned, my fingers absently tracing patterns along his chest. "Okay. I promise not to dye my hair anytime soon."

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, slightly masking the striking blue I so often found myself lost in.

I placed my head upon his chest, my hair spilling out around me.

"So," he said after a few moments, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, "are you up for another go?"

I slapped his arm, giggling as he winced in pain. "You're a pig."

"Well, you seemed to enjoy yourself while we were going at it," he responded, smirking. "I didn't exactly hear any complaints, unless you think all of those moans and heavy breathing were signals for me to stop."

"You really are a pig," I said, slapping him once more. "We'll not be having another go tonight. I kind of just want to...well, talk."

"Talking is good," he replied, wrapping his arms more securely around me. "I was just teasing about the sex thing." He grinned.

"I'm sure you weren't, but I'll let it slide," I said teasingly, snuggling a bit closer to him as I wrapped the sheets more tightly around us.

"So what would you like to talk about? The weather? College, perhaps? Or maybe what a fantastic, brilliant man I am in the sack?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed in spite of myself, staring up at him in amusement. "You're pathetic, you know that? Truly and utterly pathetic."

"Teasing, teasing," he said, his chuckles still echoing throughout the room.

"Maybe," I said, my eyes slowly fluttering closed, "we should take a little nap instead of talking. I'm clearly not going to get anything out of you except, _'Oh, let's have another go.'_"

"That's not true!" he protested, looking down at me with mock hurt in his eyes. "I'm capable of talking about things besides sex."

"Sure you are," I replied, grinning. "That's why you've brought it up at every available opportunity."

"Fine," he relented, sighing slightly. "Sleep it is, then."

"Sleep it is," I repeated, breathing in his deep, earthy scent, my eyelids becoming heavy, finally closing as I allowed myself to drift off into a blissful slumber.

* * *

The mid-afternoon sun was scorching as it beat down on the asphalt in Peyton's backyard, on which we were seated in long, slightly uncomfortable lounge chairs. My sunglasses were perched somewhat crookedly on my nose, my vision only half protected from the blinding sunlight that shone down on us relentlessly from the surprisingly clear sky.

On my right, Brooke sat in her own squeaking lounge chair clad in a bright and rather flashy orange bikini. She wore oversized white sunglasses, giving her the appearance of a poor imitation of a '60s movie star. She sipped from a tall glass filled with a various assortment of alcohol.

On my left sat Peyton, a striking contrast to the dark brown on my right. She wore a classic black one-piece suit, her blonde hair falling around her face in long, unruly waves. She preferred iced tea to Brooke's glass of spirits, sipping from her glass occasionally as she chatted quietly with me.

As was customary, I sat in the middle. I was dressed in shorts and a blue bikini.

"Tanned yet?" Brooke said, her lips turned slightly upward in a smile.

"Not yet," I replied, shifting slightly in my chair. "I put some sunscreen on earlier to prevent getting to burnt."

"Well, that's good to know," she said, taking another sip of her glass. "At least we won't have another lobster incident on our hands this year."

"That was one time!" I cried indignantly, my temper flaring. "One time, and yet you insist on bringing it up at every available opportunity!"

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" she replied cheekily, her smile turning into a smirk. She turned her attention to Peyton, lowering her sunglasses slightly to reveal the mischief twinkling in her eyes. "God, Peyton, you should have seen it. We went up to her summerhouse one year and she got the fabulous idea to slather herself up with baby oil. Needless to say, at the end of the day she was more of a blazing red as opposed to a golden brown."

Peyton laughed loudly, spilling a bit of her drink onto herself, although she didn't seem to notice. "I bet she was peeling for weeks!"

"Of course she was," Brooke said, chuckling. "I didn't think it would ever stop."

"Ha, ha, you're so _hilarious,_ Brooke," I said scathingly, glaring at her over my sunglasses. "Do keep talking; after all, it's not like I have any dirt on you or anything."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," she said quickly, shooting me a panicked glance. I smirked.

"I thought so," I replied, settling back into my chair once more.

"So if we're not discussing your lobster-esque sunburn, perhaps we should shift the conversation in a more _interesting_ direction," Peyton said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, although a part of me already knew what she was up to.

"Well," she began, smiling slyly, "you haven't exactly bombarded us with the details of your two-night stay at Nathan's flat a few days ago."

"Yes, and we're dying for said details, so spill," Brooke chimed in, her eyes eager behind her tinted lenses.

"There really isn't anything to tell," I said, adjusting my sunglasses on my nose. "We just spent some time together, watched movies, ordered in, that sort of thing."

"Right," Peyton said, quirking an eyebrow at me. "Do you really expect us to believe that all the two of you did was eat Chinese food and watch old movies? _Please,_ Hayley. You're insulting our intelligence."

"I second that," Brooke said, nodding. "As your best friends, we have every right to know what went on behind those securely locked penthouse doors."

"You two are worse than men!" I exclaimed, a look of disgust splashed across my face. "I'm not going to give you the details of my sex life!"

"AHA!" Peyton shouted happily, a triumphant gleam shining in her honey-colored eyes. "So you admit that you have a sex life to talk about!"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Will you two drop it? Please? I'd really rather not discuss something so..._personal_."

"Hello, Hayley, I told you all about my weekend with Jake," Peyton protested, pouting slightly.

I grimaced. "Yes, but please also remember that I never asked to be informed of all of your little sexcapades with Jake. I'm scarred for life thanks to some of those stories."

She sighed, seemingly at a loss for words. Brooke, however, was not as willing to give up without a fight.

"All we want to know is what happened," she said, her dark eyes piercing my own. "You don't even have to give us full details. Just enough to satisfy our curiosity."

"More like nosiness," I muttered, sighing.

"Whatever you'd like to call it is fine by me," she said, brushing off my statement. "Just tell us what happened."

"Fine!" I said at last, my cheeks tinged pink from the frustration bubbling beneath my skin. "Nathan and I had sex."

"Ooohh, where?" Peyton said, her voice filled with excitement.

"In the middle of the desert, Peyton," I said, scoffing. "Where do you think? In his flat, of course!"

She glared at me momentarily before replying. "I meant where in the flat did you..._consummate_ your love?"

"First of all, we didn't consummate any type of love," I said, shooting her a warning glance. "Secondly, it's none of your business."

"You said you would give us details!" Brooke said loudly.

"On his bed, you nosy gits!" I shouted, feeling my face burning from a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

Brooke and Peyton grinned, exchanging a knowing look between them. "So, did you enjoy yourself?" Brooke asked, her sly smile still spread across her lips.

"Have I said anything to make you believe otherwise?"

They dissolved into a fit of giggles, both of them spilling the contents of their drinks onto their new bathing suits. I glared at them, my arms folded firmly across my chest.

"So things are getting pretty serious, I take it?" Peyton asked, grinning at me hopefully.

I didn't answer straight away; instead, I sat chewing my bottom lip, the impact of her words hitting me hard. Things between Nathan and I were never supposed to reach the levels to which they had mounted; our romance was supposed to have been nothing more than a summer fling, a meaningless relationship I shared with a boy while on vacation. But something deep inside of my chest, something that ached and burned with a fierce, scorching fire told me that it was much more than that, much, _much_ more.

And yet, despite the burning in my chest, the twinges in my stomach and the words I knew I wanted to say, I found myself back inside of familiar territory, something Brooke aptly referred to as _denial._

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "Nathan and I...we both understand that a serious relationship would never work out between us. I'll be in New York, he'll be here in Tree Hill. This was just a summer romance, and we both know that."

Peyton and Brooke stared at me, identical looks splashed across their faces. "You can't be serious," Brooke said, her face etched with disbelief.

"I am serious," I replied, keeping my face and tone cool and detached. "After next week, it's over. I mean, it was fun and I've really grown to like Nathan...but it would never work out."

"So you're telling us that these past three months, they've meant absolutely nothing to you?" Peyton asked, a hint of anger flashing beneath the golden depths of her eyes.

"I didn't say that, no," I said, biting my lip harder, feeling a bit of blood ooze into my mouth. The taste was metallic and bitter, reminding me strangely of myself at that moment. "They've been really fun, and I'm glad that I met Nathan. But like I said, we both knew that this was going to happen in the end. We're going off in two completely different directions, and there's not enough room in between to balance it out."

"And you're okay with this?" Brooke questioned, her voice holding a tone that let me know that she didn't believe a word I was saying.

I forced myself to nod, plastering the falsest of smiles onto my face. "Yeah, I am. For me, this was nothing more than a silly little summer fling."

Peyton and Brooke once again exchanged dark looks, and I felt my face heat up again in embarrassment and anger. I averted my eyes from their disapproving glares, instead looking out to the street, watching as a shining black car sped off, tires squealing.

The heat was slowly melting away into a warm, dry evening, but I still felt hot all over, my cheeks flushed and insides squirming. All I could think about was what I'd just said to my two friends, how every word that had fallen from my lips had been dripping with dishonesty.

_Liar,_ I thought to myself, shame and anger spilling onto me like fat drops of rain. _You're such a fucking liar._


	25. Chapter 25

**Hayley's P.O.V**

Rain was pelting down on the windows again, dark, threatening clouds masking the bright sunshine that had spilled down onto small neighborhoods and asphalt backyards only days previously. The blistering heat had been replaced with a cool, damp breeze, sending strong gusts of wind rustling through the trees, leaves and branches swaying delicately against a murky charcoal sky.

I found myself once again seated in my borrowed bedroom, my face contorted in an expression of absolute confusion. My eyes were staring intently at the cell phone that rested silently upon my mattress, nothing but the time displayed across its small screen. It had been days since I'd heard from Nathan, let alone seen him; every time I'd attempted to call him, I had been led straight to his voicemail. Despite the numerous messages I had left for him, he had yet to return one of them.

Biting my lip nervously, I glanced toward the calendar hanging on the wall. August 29 was less than four days away, and I had not spoken to my boyfriend, the man I would be leaving behind, in well over three days. His behavior was nothing short of baffling; one moment we had been enjoying ourselves in his flat, and the next it seemed as though I didn't exist. I had heard of women saying that sex changed everything in a relationship, but his complete lack of acknowledgment of me seemed rather extreme.

I had considered the possibility of stopping by his flat on more than one occasion, but something that lingered deep within my chest was telling me not to go. Every time the prospect danced across my mind, my stomach churned unpleasantly and my chest ached, somehow fearing imminent disaster. However, the fact that I hadn't seen him in so long was causing my chest to ache even more fiercely, the horrifying truth finally sinking in: I missed him.

I shifted my gaze toward the window, watching as thick, heavy droplets of rain splashed against the glass. Downstairs, I could hear the banging of pots and pans as Aunt Karen prepared dinner, the scent of something delicious already traveling upstairs to my room. One room over, the sounds of Brooke and Peyton's tinkling laughter floated through the walls, causing a lump to rise in my throat. I was finally realizing how different my life would be in a short four days' time - there would be no more jokes with Peyton, no more comforting hugs from Aunt Karen, no more trips down to the lake with Jake, Lucas and Rachel. And perhaps the thing that was hitting me hardest was the fact that I would never feel Nathan's arms wrapped around me again, never feel his lips pressed against mine, never experience that _whooshing_ feeling in my stomach when I caught his eye. Even more than that, I couldn't believe that I cared as much as I did, couldn't believe that I had allowed myself to fall so quickly and so deeply into something I had known would never last past the final, fading days of summer.

Buried somewhere beneath the feelings I had never wanted to allow myself to feel, I knew that I would have to forget about them, knew that I would have to pretend like saying goodbye to him wasn't going to rip my heart into tiny, microscopic pieces. I had to do this not only for myself, but for Nathan as well; I couldn't bear to let him fall for me when I knew nothing could ever come of it. So, I rationalized, my intentions were not selfish; in fact, they were pretty damn selfless.

Still, I knew that I had to figure out why he had been missing for the past three days, but most of all I just wanted to see him again, wanted to kiss him and hold him and laugh with him before it was time for me to go and leave everything behind.

Giving my room a final, lingering glance, I grabbed the key to Nathan's flat and headed out into the storm, nothing but time stretching endlessly ahead of me.

* * *

"Excuse me, miss? Can I see your pass, please?"

I froze, my heartbeat quickening as the officer's voice penetrated my ears. I was standing just outside of Nathan's building, preparing to enter the wide glass doors. That officer hadn't been there before, my mind was reeling; I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"My pass?" I repeated, dumbfounded.

"Your pass to get into the building," he replied curtly, his voice laced with agitation. "I can't let you in without one."

"But I've been here loads of times before and I've never been asked to show any kind of pass," I said, a slight hint of panic beginning to creep its way into my voice.

He stared at me for a few moments, his eyes growing darker with each passing second. "I'm going to consult the list of approved visitors to check if any of our residents have granted you access to the building. I'll need to take your name."

"Hayley James," I replied, almost without thinking. I watched him nod and turn, muttering, "You stay here," as he walked away.

The minutes seemed to pass like hours; everything suddenly seemed as though it were moving in slow motion, time moving along in a slow, agonizing crawl. My mind could not wrap itself around the idea that I might not be allowed to enter Nathan's building, the place in which I had spent so much time since I had arrived in Tree Hill. Nothing was making sense, everything running through my mind in rapid succession, bleeding together in blurs of color.

I watched with increasing apprehension as the officer approached me once more, his face surprisingly impassive. I could see annoyance lingering behind the cool surface of his eyes, barely detectable but still there, cleverly masked by a calm exterior.

"I'm sorry, miss, but your name isn't on the list." He stood there for a moment, seemingly waiting for me to turn and walk away.

"What do you mean it's not on the list? My boyfriend lives in there!" I shouted, my cheeks tinged pink. My anger was rapidly bubbling to the surface.

"I'm sure he does, ma'am," he said, rolling his eyes. "Kindly leave, or I will have to have you escorted from the premises."

"Look!" I said, fishing in my pocket for the small, gold-plated key to Nathan's flat. "I have a key!" I held the shiny object up in emphasis, the officer's eyes narrowing slightly.

"And to which flat in this building does that key belong?" he asked snidely, appearing extremely annoyed.

"My boyfriend's," I replied. "Nathan Scott."

He let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head slightly. "Do you know how many times I've heard that story?"

"It's not a story!" I cried, outraged. "It's the truth!"

"I'm sorry, miss. I can't let you inside of the building. You do not have a pass, and your name is not on the list of approved visitors. And if you do not turn and walk away now, I _will_ have you removed from the grounds."

Letting out a small shriek of frustration, I turned and stomped away from the posh building, yanking my cell phone out of my pocket and dialing Nathan's number. On the fifth ring, I heard his voice, quiet and low: "Hello?"

"What the hell is going on, Nathan?" I raged into the phone, positively furious. "I'm standing outside of your building and I can't get inside because I'm not on the list of approved visitors!"

There was silence for several moments, so long and endless that I felt compelled to break it. "Of course, this wouldn't have happened if you had actually been around the past few days! I left you message after message on your phone, but apparently you're unable to dial a number and call me back!"

"I'll be down in a moment. Wait there." And without another word, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone in disbelief, my head spinning, unable to fully comprehend what was going on. Nothing within my realm of understanding was making sense.

After several long minutes, Nathan materialized from the large glass doors, his hair messy and unkempt, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle. He was speaking quietly to the officer, and I watched as he nodded and shot sideways glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I stood aside, feeling incredibly foolish and somewhat ostracized, as though I were something put on display for the whole world to stare and point at.

Finally Nathan was walking toward me, his eyes unfamiliar as they swept over me, clear, shining blue now replaced with a dark, haunting intensity I had never seen within them before. He did not smile or embrace me as he approached; instead, he merely nodded and motioned for me to follow him inside of the building, his eyes never catching mine once we had stepped through the glass doors.

We traveled the length to his flat in complete silence; there were so many things I wanted to say to him, _shout_ at him, but I held my tongue, almost afraid of what would happen when I let those words fall from my lips. I kept my eyes averted from him, knowing that if I let them linger too long I would open up and the shouting would commence.

After what seemed like an eternity spent in a silent hell, we reached the door to his flat. He extracted his key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock, and with painstaking realization I discovered that our keys no longer matched. He had changed the locks.

I followed him into the flat, fighting desperately against the lump forming within my throat. I couldn't cry, not because I was in his presence but because there wasn't supposed to be anything to cry about. None of this was supposed to matter, none of it was supposed to make me feel the way I was feeling. None of it was supposed to have veered off course, but as I stood there in his living room, I knew that we were a long way from a straight and narrow path; maybe we had never even been on one to begin with.

As the minutes slowly slid past me, I found that the silence was unbearable. I opened my mouth to speak, but Nathan beat me to it, his voice flat and emotionless.

"So what do you want?"

I stood back and stared at him, feeling as though I had just been slapped. I couldn't understand how he could stand there and act so cold toward me after everything that had happened between us. So when I opened my mouth to speak, my words were laced with anger and hurt despite my best efforts to mask the feelings that were running rampant through my veins.

"What I want," I began, my voice considerably louder than I had intended, "is to know where the hell you've been for the past three days."

"Oh, around," he replied airily, his voice still flat and monotonous. "Driving. I stopped by Peyton's house the other day, by the way. But I suppose you were too busy telling everyone that our relationship meant nothing to you to really notice."

"Ignoring the fact that you were spying on me," I said, my voice shaking, "I never said that. I said that what we have is a summer romance! I thought you understood that!"

"Oh yeah, I understand now," he spat, his eyes hardening. "I understand that all of this was just a bloody fling to you!"

"So that's what all of this is about?" I yelled, my face reddening. "The ignored calls, the changed locks, the refusal to let me into the building?"

He remained silent, but I didn't need to hear him speak; I continued on, almost completely ignoring the expression splashed across his face.

"You knew where this relationship was going when we got into it," I said loudly. "You knew that I was leaving at the end of the summer. You knew that I was going to NYU. You knew that I wasn't staying here in Tree Hill with you! So the fact that you're so surprised is no one's fault but your own! Maybe you should have paid closer attention when I told you that this relationship was over as soon as I stepped foot into the airport to go back home!"

"So now, after everything that's happened, you're still willing to throw everything that we have away?" he shouted, taking a few steps closer to me. "You're still willing to lie to yourself about how you feel about me?"

"Contrary to what you would like to believe, Nathan, I am not in love with you!"

To my surprise, Nathan grinned and let out a loud, hearty laugh, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. I stared at him, open-mouthed, not fully believing the sight before my eyes.

"With as much as our relationship has progressed within the past two months, I should think that you would be a bit more open to admitting your feelings. I should think that you'd be a bit more willing to make this relationship work, despite the distance factor."

"I don't let myself fall for people, Nathan!" I yelled, infuriated. "I don't allow myself to become emotionally involved because it's a waste of time, an open invitation to be hurt!"

"Well then I must be a fool, because I'm in love with you! And I know beneath that stubbornness you love me, too!" He was standing so close to me, mere inches separating us; his lips were dangerously close to mine, and I knew what he was going to do. But I turned away, unable to put myself through that hell; I shielded myself from him, hiding my tear-filled eyes.

"I don't love you," I whispered, my chest burning fiercely.

"You do!" he exclaimed, and I could see the desperation, the aching in his eyes. "You do, or else you wouldn't be standing here right now, wondering where I've been, why I haven't been around!"

"All I wanted to know was why you were being a complete and total asshole!" I screamed, my eyes burning with fury; all I wanted was to get away from there, but something was holding me back, keeping me rooted to the spot.

"EXACTLY!" he shouted, his own eyes brimming with tears of frustration. "If you didn't love me, didn't care about me in the least, then it wouldn't have mattered to you if I was gone in the first place!"

His words were hitting me like a brick to the head, hard and sharp, blinding and deafening. I couldn't look at him anymore, not after those words had left his lips. I couldn't bear to stand there, tears staining my cheeks, hands trembling, knowing that he was right, but realizing that I wouldn't, _couldn't_ admit that he was. Because that's not how life worked, not mine at least; nothing ever ended with a fairytale, and expecting a happy ending was almost as foolish as believing in them.  
I looked deep into his eyes, my chest burning even more fiercely than it had before; within them I found so many things I never wanted to let go of, but I knew as I stood there that I would have to. I gave him a sad, heartbroken glance before I turned and walked out of the flat, leaving nothing but regret in my wake.


	26. Chapter 26

**To those who wont Hayley to stop being stubborn and go be with Nathan.. Please don't kill me.. but that wont happen.. well not in this story.. Sorry**

**Next Chapter is the last chapter..**

**There might be a sequel so please review me what you think of this story..

* * *

**

**Hayley's P.O.V**

"Why won't you just call him?"

"Because there is nothing to say."

"I think there is!"

"What would you know, Peyton? Were you there? Did you hear everything that was said?"

"I didn't need to be there to understand that you're a stubborn git and Nathan was probably only trying to talk some sense into that thick head of yours."

"You're treading into very dangerous waters, Sawyer."

"I don't give a flying - "

"Oh, will the both of you please _**SHUT UP**_"

Simultaneously, Peyton and I shot death glares in Brooke's direction, our eyes burning with a shared yet completely separate infuriation. My hands were trembling, and my chest felt as though it was about to explode - things I'd been experiencing for the past three days, ever since I'd walked out of Nathan's flat without looking back.

Only I had looked back, just not in the literal sense of the word. I'd spent hours, sometimes even whole nights contemplating what had happened between us, wondering if I'd made the right decision or if it was all a terrible mistake that could never be undone. But then, as always, logic and rationality had set in, replacing the doubts and worries that constantly danced across my mind, offering me a few moments of uninterrupted peace. _It never would have worked out anyway,_ I often told myself on such nights. _The distance, remember the distance. _

Sometimes, though, that logic wouldn't hold over in my dreams, the one grey area of my life I couldn't seem to control. Nathan's face would swim through my subconscious, sometimes smiling, eyes twinkling; other times, those unfamiliar eyes I had seen that last day would be sweeping over me, his face cold and impassive. I had found my dreams to be rather unsettling the past few nights, although I somehow preferred them to my waking hours.

"I'm just trying to get her to understand that she made a mistake," Peyton said fiercely, her eyes flashing.

Brooke sighed, pushing her dark hair out of her face. "I don't think we should talk about this anymore. This is Hayley's business, not ours."

"Hayley's well-being _is_ our business," Peyton argued. "I don't want her to leave tomorrow with a million regrets resting on her shoulders."

"You know," I said at last, feeling oddly even-tempered, "I'm sitting right here."

"Hayley, will you just listen to reason for once in your life?" Peyton pleaded, her honey eyes staring straight into my brown depths, wide and unblinking. "You're going to regret this every day of your life if you don't do something about it now."

"The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner," I said, my voice cold and emotionless. "Maybe then I could have saved him some grief."

Peyton stared at me, disbelief lining her face, her honey eyes sad and tired. "You don't believe that any more than I do," she persisted, shaking her head. "I know you don't."

"You can think whatever you like, Peyton. The fact of the matter is that Nathan and I are over, and I'm not sorry." I turned away from her then, unable to keep looking into those eyes that saw straight through my lies, straight through the walls I had built around myself, the walls that I knew would soon collapse if this conversation continued.

"Fine," she said at last, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Throw away the best thing that's ever happened to you. When you see photographs of Nathan with a girl that isn't you in the papers, we'll see how you'll feel then. But I promise, I won't be there to say I told you so."

Brooke closed her magazine, her expression indifferent and unreadable. Peyton turned her head away from me, instead focusing her attention on a rather peculiar spot on the wall. And I sat there, my throat constricting, holding the power to change everything in my hands, yet being completely powerless to do anything about it. That's how it had always been with me, and that's how it would _always_ be. My whole life I'd cheated myself out of happiness, preferring negativity and cynicism instead. As I sat there, my eyes burning, I knew I would never change. And that, perhaps, was what bothered me the most.

* * *

I had anticipated my departure from North Carolina from the moment I had set foot inside of the country. Even after I had grown fond of the landscape, the rainy days and the people I constantly found myself surrounded by, the end was always in my peripheral vision, faintly visible amidst the laughter and smiles and sheets I found myself tangled in, blue eyes staring into my own. Then it had always been months away, something I hadn't allowed myself to worry about. But slowly the months faded into weeks, weeks turned quickly into days, until the days dwindled down into nothing but mere hours, my hands shaking as I threw another sweater into my overflowing suitcase.

I was not ready to leave; this I knew, and understood, well. With every article of clothing that was thrown into my suitcase, my chest pulled a bit tighter, the lump forming within my throat growing a bit larger. My eyes burned and my lip trembled, but I had not allowed myself to shed a single tear. I was too strong, I told myself. Too strong, too proud to cry. It wouldn't solve anything, anyway. It wouldn't change the fact that in three hours, I would be on a plane that would carry me back across the states, placing me right back where I had started only months before.

A part of me longed to put my sweaters, jeans and T-shirts back into the dresser drawers they had resided in since June, but an even bigger part of me wanted to keep packing them into the suitcase so I could get away faster, away from scents and sounds and sights that reminded me of the one thing I wanted to forget. I couldn't stand being so close to Nathan, nothing but a short drive away, after everything had happened. It would be easier to forget about him once I was gone, a few miles stretching between us and the memories that lingered there.

Peyton had finally abandoned her quest to reunite Nathan and I, gradually coming to the realization that I was a hopeless cause. Brooke, as always, had remained quiet and impassive, allowing me to make my own choices, regardless of how foolish she might have believed me to be. That was something I had always loved about my best friend; she always let me come to my own conclusions, even the bad ones.

The small scrapbook I had kept while in Tree Hill was lying on my bed, half-opened, waiting patiently to be tucked away inside of my suitcase, buried beneath a million other memories I was attempting to repress. Cautiously, I lifted it from the mattress and allowed my eyes to linger over the faces of the people I would miss more than anything once I'd gone. It was still strange to think of daily life without them in it - breakfasts without playfully bantering with Peyton; slightly inebriated conversations with Jake, Lucas and Rachel; long, quiet walks with Nathan, his hand wrapped securely around my own, his eyes twinkling with a love I knew we both felt deep within our bones.

As I sat there, staring at the photographic evidence of my transformation, I could not believe how time had managed to fly by so quickly, like everything had just whizzed past me in a blur of color and sounds. In one sense, it seemed as though my arrival in Tree Hill North Carolina had happened years ago, as though I had spent the better portion of my life engulfed in the world I was preparing to leave behind. Yet, almost at the same time, things like the after party, my father's wedding and Brooke's arrival seemed to have happened mere _minutes_ ago. It didn't seem as though weeks upon weeks had passed since those pieces of my memory had occurred, and as I sat there I couldn't believe that in a few weeks I would be at New York University, surrounded by people and noises and scents I wouldn't recognize.

The clock on my bedside table was telling me that I had only ten minutes before I would have to leave for the airport. Everything was ending now, drawing to a close; those numbers on the clock confirmed that for me, made me realize that it was time for me to go, time to set off on my own adventures. It was time for me to be the woman I was rapidly blossoming into, time for me to hold my head high and walk away from everything, time for me to understand and realize that the credits were rolling and it was time for me to leave the theater.

But as I gathered my suitcase and walked out into the hallway, my eyes lingering on the room I had called my own during the warm days of summer, I was hoping desperately for a surprise ending, one that came after the credits had finished. I was hoping for him to come after me, to stop me, to tell me again that he loved me and couldn't live without me. I wanted the cliche ending; I wanted sparks and thrown luggage and an embrace that would sweep me off of my feet. Walking down the stairs, through the sitting room, out the front door, and finally inside of the car, I realized that I wanted the fairytale.

* * *

The airport was overflowing with travelers when I arrived, a chaotic gathering of suitcases, business suits and frustrated sighs escaping thin lips. The tension hanging in the air was tangible; I felt as though I could almost wrap my fingers around the anguished cries of infants, the agitated shouts of anxious mothers, and the squeaking and clanging of suitcases and other luggage as they were rolled along the shining floor.

My own silent trepidation was slowly creeping upon me, running rampant through my veins, creating a whirlwind of doubts and anxieties reeling through my mind. As I neared ever closer to the security checkpoint, my heartbeat began to increase in speed and my hands began to shake uncontrollably, a nervous habit that I could never seem to rid myself of. I stared into the faces of my fellow travelers, weighed down by bags and stress; I swallowed hard, my nerves getting the best of me.

Subconsciously, I found myself searching for a pair of penetrating blue eyes, eyes that sparkled and twinkled with an odd combination of mischief and determination. Eyes that could see right through the barriers I had placed within my own brown pools, eyes that could break past those barriers and penetrate my deepest thoughts and secrets. My time was running out, and I had half-expected him to be there, his eyes fierce and blazing, begging me not to go. But as my eyes traveled along the faces that whizzed past me, I did not find what I had been searching for. He wasn't there. He wasn't coming.

"Are you sure you've packed everything, dear?" Aunt Karen asked from beside me, a few loose pieces of her hair spilling around her face from her messy bun. She appeared slightly harassed, her eyes wide and searching, her lips drawn in a straight, thin line.

I nodded, allowing a faint smile to spread across my lips. "Yeah, I've got everything."

"I just feel like we're forgetting something," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. I looked at her, silently agreeing; I was forgetting something, something I knew I'd never find again.

Brooke, dragging her own suitcase behind her, smiled cheerfully in my direction. "Ready to go home, Hayley?" she asked, her smile wide.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, shooting a sideways glance at Peyton. She hadn't said much at all since we'd left her house, and I couldn't help but notice how strange that was for her.

"Peyton?" I said tentatively, my eyes searching hers. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Fine." She didn't look at me, instead focusing her vision on the security checkpoint that was mere feet in front of us.

"You don't seem fine," I pressed, a lump forming in my throat as we neared the checkpoint.

She looked at me then, her honey eyes shining with unshed tears. Without warning, she threw her arms around me and began sobbing into my shoulder, her cries choked and muffled.

"Peyton," I said, surprise still lingering in my voice, "what's the matter?"

"You're leaving and I don't want to say goodbye," she cried, her tears soaking through my T-shirt. "I can't say goodbye."

"Remember what you told me before? This isn't goodbye. This isn't the end. You'll visit me in New York, right? That's what you said, remember?"

"I remember," she said, her sobs subsiding considerably. She looked up at me then, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "You're my best friend. The sister I never had. I don't know what I'm going to do without you here everyday."

I could feel tears of my own starting to fill my eyes, but I blinked them away, unwilling to display that kind of emotion in such a large public setting. Instead I hugged her tighter, trying desperately to reassure and comfort her.

"You'll get through it," I promised her. "You can call me anytime. You can email me. You can visit me whenever you're able to. And...I'll come back and visit too, okay? This is only temporary. It's not permanent. It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

"I know," she replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm just...I'm really going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too," I said, hugging her once more.

"Hayley," Brooke said from beside me, her smile no longer cheerful. "Our flight is leaving soon. We've got to start going through security."

I nodded, disentangling myself from Peyton after a final bone-crushing hug. I slowly made my way over to Aunt Karen, who had tears sparkling in her eyes.

She wrapped me in one of her motherly embraces, her hands smoothing my hair like my mother used to do when I was little. "Have a safe trip, dear," she said to me, letting go of me all too soon. "And be sure to call us once you've arrived home."

I nodded, feeling the tears prickling the corners of my eyes. "I will," I promised, my eyes lingering over my aunt and cousin as I slowly slipped closer to the checkpoint, my feet heavy.

I ingrained their faces into my memory as they waved goodbye to me, holding onto each other for support. They both wore sad smiles, their eyes shining with tears, cheeks stained from those that had already fallen. I raised my hand in farewell as Brooke entered security, motioning for me to follow.

I turned away then, ripping my eyes away from Aunt Karen and Peyton and their sad smiles. Summer was over, I knew, as I passed through security, dragging my bag filled with memories behind me. I didn't allow myself to look back, to search for those eyes I had hoped I would find. I realized then that I loved him, _truly_ loved him with every fiber of my being, loved him more than I could ever begin to understand or describe. I had been too stubborn, too afraid to admit it before, but if he had been there then, pleading with me not to go, I would have stayed. I would have given up everything for him, my dreams, my ambitions, my life. I would have given it all away if it meant being with him, his lips against mine, skin against skin.

But he wasn't there, and he wasn't asking me to stay. So I looked forward towards the terminal, a lone tear falling from my eye and traveling slowly down my face, finally dying in a salty explosion on my lips.


	27. Chapter 27  Final Chapter

**FINAL CHAPTER please review what you think of the story.. thanx**

**Hayley's P.O.V**

There were bolts of lightning flashing across a deep purple sky when I stepped out of Airport, dragging my suitcase (and a severely jetlagged Brooke) behind me. Our mothers, notorious for late night shifts at their respective jobs, had arranged for a cab to pick us up from the bustling airport, something I was not excited about. Brooke was far too exhausted to even process the fact that we would be spending the better part of an hour inside of a cramped, smelly taxi, but I was fully awake and surprisingly jetlag-free. I credited my alertness to the eight cups of tea I'd consumed on the plane, but something in the back of my mind knew differently. I had spent the entire flight thinking of _him,_ the one person I was trying to block from my mind more than anything else.

The rain began to fall as the cab pulled up to the curb, the driver sticking his head out of the window and asking, annoyed, "James and Davis?"

"Yes," I answered in the same annoyed tone, hauling our suitcases into the trunk of the car. I ushered Brooke into the bright yellow vehicle and climbed in myself, barking my address at the driver, who promptly peeled out of the pick-up area and into traffic.

I allowed my eyes to wander to the window I was pressed up against, observing the storm that was raging outside. It was bittersweet, almost, watching the thick drops of rain fall from the sky like tears, feeling the thunder's vibrations in the car, half-smiling in familiarity as the bright flashes of lightning ripped through the clouds. It reminded me of home and of _there,_ that small sliver of land in which I'd spent my summer, echoes of the memories I was repressing filling my mind, _deafening,_ until the thunder was inaudible.

Familiar landmarks and landscapes flew past me as the taxi sped down the highway, a colorful combination of trees and road signs blending together in a hurried, frenzied blur. I could not soak up the familiarity that was surrounding me because the car was moving too fast, and my mind, jumbled with half-thoughts and ripped photographs, was reeling, spinning.

August 29th had faded rapidly into August 30th, Tuesday turning into Wednesday, Tree Hill blending into New York. Parts of my mind couldn't remember the change happening so quickly, couldn't remember that hours upon hours had passed since I'd stood inside of the Airport, waving teary good-byes to my family, tears salty on my lips. Time suddenly meant everything and nothing all at once, as if it were merely a placeholder for the truly important things I often overlooked, like breathing in summer air or simple kisses, chapped lips against chapped lips.

I thought of him then, as clearly as I could with the thunderstorm raging in my mind. It was over now, and a small part of me accepted that as reality. He hadn't been there when I'd left. His eyes hadn't searched for mine in that never-ending sea of people, that shocking blue piercing my own brown pools. His hands hadn't grasped for mine desperately, his palms rough against the smoothness of my own. He had stayed away, away from what we both knew we wanted, stayed away because now he was afraid too, just like me. Afraid of uncertainty and hazy futures, afraid of distance and broken hearts. Afraid of loving me the way I wanted, _needed_ him to, the way I loved him.

The car jerked to a stop before I even realized that we had reached my house, tall and looming, a replica of the other homes lining the quiet, suburban street. Beside me Brooke stirred, her dark eyes fluttering open slowly, barely registering her location. I nudged her gently, opening the door and handing the driver a fifty-dollar bill, telling him to keep the change. We clambered out of the taxi, retrieving our luggage and trudging up the walkway to my front door, unsurprisingly unlocked and welcoming.

The living room was exactly as I remembered it; chocolate brown walls accented with small pieces of gleaming wood furniture, the too-large TV sitting proudly atop a hand-carved entertainment center. I dropped my suitcase onto my mother's spotlessly clean hardwood floor, instructing Brooke to do the same. We managed to stumble over to the couch and proceeded to plop ourselves onto it, breathing in deeply before sleep crept over us.

* * *

The day was warm and sunny with the slightest breeze rustling slowly changing leaves, typical weather for the beginning of September. New York University was only two short days away, and I sat outside on my front lawn doodling onto a scrap of paper, avoiding the packing I knew I had to do. Inside my mother wandered throughout the house, her fingers tracing over the photographs mounted on the walls. I had been gone emotionally for years, but New York University was permanent, and she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that I would be gone before summer died away. 

I could see Brooke's gleaming red Toyota slowly gliding down the street, turning sharply into my driveway. She emerged from the tiny vehicle with her hair windswept and her smile wide and dazzling, her cheeks flushed an excited shade of pink. I looked at her quizzically, tossing my paper aside.

"Get in the car," she said without hesitation, her car keys dangling from her hand.

"What?" I asked incredulously, my eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Get in the car," she repeated, tapping her foot excitedly.

"For what?" I asked her, my voice high with apprehension.

"You and I are going out for the day," she said, her smile growing wider. "To Houghton Lake."

I stared at her for a few moments, disbelief etched heavily into my face. "Why?"

She blinked at me, her expression unreadable; she bit her bottom lip and chewed it thoughtfully, her eyes studying me carefully. I stared back at her, my face scrunched up in confusion, not fully understanding what was going on.

"Do you really need a reason?" she said at last, pulling her sunglasses from her purse and placing them on her nose.

"Yes," I replied, ripping a few blades of grass out of the ground.

She sighed in frustration, and I knew that she was rolling her eyes behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. "Hayley, Houghton Lake has long since been your favorite place in the world. Normally you'd jump at the chance to spend some time there."

"Things are different now," I said simply, looking away from her. "Besides, I have things to do before I leave for University."

"You have two days before you leave for University," she replied. "Come on. One night is all I'm asking for. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself."

"Doubt it," I mumbled, my eyes stinging as _he_ flashed through my mind. I hadn't enjoyed anything since leaving him behind.

"Please?" she said, her voice soft and pleading. "Just this one last trip before you go to University and leave me forever."

I looked at her then, and my chest tightened and I could feel the lump forming in my throat before I could stop it from surfacing. Once I left for University, everything would be new and different, nothing staying the same. Things I had wanted to stay the same forever would change despite my best efforts to keep them intact, and that was a harsh realization that I had never wanted to understand.

I nodded, blinking back the tears that were beginning to sting my eyes. "Okay," I said quietly, emitting a soft sigh. "But one night is all you're getting out of me. It's hard going back there."

"I know," she said understandingly, taking a step closer to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a hug only best friends could offer. "But you'll have fun. I promise."

I sighed once more, closing my eyes and holding onto her as if she were the only thing keeping me on the ground. And at that moment, it felt as if she was. Unstable and jaded, I felt as though I would float off into the sunny sky if I let go of her.

She pulled away from me and smiled, grabbing my arm and dragging me across my front lawn into the home that housed my mother's sad, tired eyes. "Come on," she said as she pushed open the front door. "We've got to get some things packed for our mini road trip."

"Why can't I just go like this?" I grumbled as we began climbing the staircase that led to my bedroom.

"Because you need a bathing suit and a change of clothes, you dolt," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Unless you plan on sleeping in jeans, which isn't exactly comfortable."

"Fine, whatever. Let's just make this quick, okay?" I opened my bedroom door and grabbed an overnight bag from my closet, flinging an old pair of cargo pants inside of it. Brooke, in turn, began rummaging through my drawers to find an acceptable bathing suit, and I looked at her quizzically, doubting that she'd find one.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, smiling triumphantly as she held up a dark green bikini that I hadn't worn for ages. "Found one."

I scrunched my nose up in disgust, shaking my head. "No. I'm not wearing that."

"Then why do you have it in your drawer?" she asked me, raising her eyebrows inquisitively. "When I don't like my old clothes, I usually throw them out."

"I haven't had time to do that," I shot back, sighing heavily. "But whatever, just put it in the damn bag so we can go."

"All right, all right. Let's go." She threw the bikini into my overnight bag and stepped out into the hallway, waving cheerfully to my mother as she passed. "Bye, Mrs. James! See you tomorrow!"

My mother's head appeared in her bedroom doorway, her eyes studying me carefully. "Where are you two going?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, to the lake," Brooke answered, smiling broadly. "Just for tonight. I'll have Hayley back home by tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," she replied, trying her hardest to smile. "Well. You girls have fun."

"We will," said Brooke, still smiling. "Come on, Hayley. Let's go."

"Bye, Mom," I said, offering her a half-hearted smile before descending the staircase into the front hall. I heard her quiet, nearly inaudible goodbye as I reached the front door, my hand placed delicately on the doorknob. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to race back up the stairs and wrap my arms around her shaking shoulders, wanted to tell her that I loved her and that everything would somehow work out, that it would be okay in the end. But instead I turned the doorknob and walked out into the crisp September afternoon, turning back only once to make sure that the door was closed.

* * *

The sky was burning a deep, vibrant orange as Brooke's Toyota rolled down the two-lane highway that led into Houghton Lake. I glanced to my right and allowed my eyes to absorb the crystalline beauty of the lake I'd loved since my childhood, smiling softly as old memories flooded my senses. I remembered my father and the small kingdoms we built in the sand, my mother and the beach blankets we so often found ourselves spread across, Brooke and our infamous bonfire confessions. Being there, breathing in the early autumn air reminded me of a simpler time, a time in which I sometimes longed to return. 

Familiar buildings and businesses flew past me as we drove down the highway, an overwhelming sense of familiarity washing over me. It was almost as though I had stepped back into my childhood, surrounded by the sights, sounds and scents I had been dreaming of since my father had sold my memories away.

Beside me, Brooke smiled and turned up the volume on the radio, her long brown hair blowing through her open window. She sang along with the song blaring through the speakers, our laughter mingling with the beat, creating a melody of its own. And in that one, small, blissful moment, I realized just how much I'd miss her after I left for University. Everything was suddenly clear to me then as we sat there, driving down the highway, our laughter filling the air. I was running away, just as I always had. I had gone to Tree Hill to escape my mother's unfamiliar eyes, had left my father's home to run away from his new marriage, had come back home to cheat myself out of the one chance of happiness that had been presented to me. And now I was running away from everything to start over in a new school, daunting and terrifying.

The only thing I knew how to do was run, and it was what I did best. I wondered, as the music continued to penetrate my ears, if it would be the same once I got to University. Would I arrive there only to hate it, only to want to run away from something I encountered while there? I was tired of running, tired of being unhappy and miserable and unmotivated. I wanted something more, something tangible that I could hold and touch and _feel,_ but that opportunity had long since passed, and I was right back where I had started, bitter and alone.

I was tired of not feeling, of hiding away from everything, every good feeling and every bad one. It was only now after I had lost Nathan that I realized how much I cared about him, how much I wished things had been different between us. People have said that hindsight is twenty-twenty, and that statement was never more true to me as it was, as I drove down that highway, loose tendrils of hair blowing into my eyes.

I was one of those people who preferred to never feel anything at all if it meant never having to experience pain or heartache, but I knew then that that type of attitude was unhealthy, that it deprived me of happiness and love and emotions I knew I had always wanted to feel. I realized that I would have to let the bad in with the good, and while the bad might be horrible for awhile, for weeks or months or maybe even years, eventually things would have to get better. That was life, temporary drawbacks and temporary relief, because nothing in the world was ever permanent.

The Toyota made a sharp right onto a familiar private road, and a tingling feeling of excitement that began in my stomach raced through me, causing a broad smile to spread across my lips. Although I knew we weren't headed towards the spacious split-level in which I had spent so much of my childhood, it thrilled me to know that the house Brooke had managed to secure was located on the same dark, quiet road, tucked away from outside intrusions and distractions.

And then I saw it, the place that housed so many of my memories, so many reminders of better times. My chest pulled and my eyes burned unexpectedly, and I blinked back the tears furiously, prying my eyes away from the tire swing and the lake that could be seen just behind the house. That part of my life was over, as were many others, and I had to accept that as reality.

And then, most unexpectedly, Brooke pulled into the long driveway of my former summerhouse, cutting the engine and taking the keys out of the ignition. She turned to me and smiled, her dark eyes shining as she stared at me, the keys clinking together quietly in her hand.

"Brooke," I began, confusion thick in my voice, "what's going on? Why are we here?"

"It's yours," she replied simply, still smiling, although it was oddly crooked this time.

"What?" I asked in disbelief, my eyes growing wide in surprise.

"The house, it's yours," she repeated. She held up the key to the front door for emphasis, placing it gently inside of my hand. "See for yourself."

I continued to stare at her, open-mouthed, confusion flooding my senses. Mechanically, still in a state of shock, I opened the door of the car and stepped onto the slightly overgrown grass on the lawn, taking long strides to reach the front door. There was something small and white stuck to it, a piece of paper adorned with a messy, untidy scrawl. Breathing in deeply, I pulled the paper off of the door and held it in my shaking hands, my eyes burning once more as I read the words printed on the note.

_This is for not saying goodbye. _

Nathan 

"But..." I breathed, focusing my attention on Brooke, her outline blurry from the tears stinging my eyes.

"Don't ask me how he did it," she said quietly, her crooked smile still in place. "He just did."

"But I don't...I don't want..." My words were cut short as the tears fell angrily onto my cheeks, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

"You _do_ want it, Hayley," Brooke said, taking a few steps closer to me. "You've wanted this house back ever since your father sold it. And Nathan made that happen."

"I didn't _want_ him to make it happen!" I shouted, wiping my tears away forcefully with the back of my hand. "I don't need this from him! I was just..." I stopped again, catching my breath. "I was just starting to understand that things were finished with us, and then he does this and..."

"He did it because he's sorry for not saying goodbye to you, Hayley," she said firmly. "He did it because he's sorry for missing his chance."

I stared at her, hot, angry tears still rolling freely down my face. "He's not here, is he?" I asked, my voice unsteady.

She shook her head. "No, he isn't. But he did this for you, Hayley, and he wants to make things right between the two of you. He loves you, and he knows that letting you leave was a mistake. And I know that you feel the same way."

I couldn't think of anything to say to her words except, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Brooke. I'm leaving for school in a few days, and he's a world away from me."

"The distance is only as far as you want it to be," she said, gathering her bags as she opened the front door to the house. She turned and smiled at me once more as she stepped into the house, leaving me standing alone on the front lawn with nothing but Nathan's crumpled note in my hand.

* * *

The dock that led into the lake was almost endless, it seemed like, my eyes falling upon it as I stepped out onto the small area of sand near the lakeshore. There was a light breeze blowing through the late afternoon, the sky smeared with pinks and yellows and oranges. The sun was setting, the orange orb visible behind the scattering of purple clouds surrounding it.

My feet carried me to the dock, the wooden planks surprisingly sturdy underneath me. I walked towards the end, right where the sandy bottom of the lake dropped off into nothingness. I sat down on the hard planks, tucking my feet beneath me, staring at the note still clutched tightly in my hand. And without giving it much thought at all, I dropped it into the calm water of the lake, watching as Nathan's inky words began to run all over the page.

The smeared, trickling ink was now nothing more than a few faded words scribbled messily onto paper, and in that moment, those words reminded me strangely of myself. The angry, cynical, bitter girl that I had been at the beginning of the summer had slowly trickled away, and now, as I sat on the dock of my childhood home, I was a different girl, a different _woman._ But there was still that lingering reminder of who I had once been, faded and imprinted into my soul, my very being. It was there, I knew, to remind me of things I knew I should never forget, there to remind me not to make the same mistakes twice.

I would call Nathan tomorrow, I decided as the sun began to rapidly slip behind the clouds, the orange light burning all around me. Tomorrow I would tell him everything I needed to say, everything I was too afraid to say before. But in that moment, as I sat and watched the note float away from me, I knew that even if things between Nathan and I were never meant to be anything more than they were then, he would always be there somehow, that lingering imprint of my first love, that faded reminder of the man who had changed my life forever.


End file.
